


Echoes of a Nightmare

by RedWyvern



Series: Echoes of Dreams [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Battle, Copious use of cutscene dialogue, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Patch 2.0: A Realm Reborn Spoilers, Sex, The Binding Coils of Bahamut (Final Fantasy XIV) Spoilers, no beta we die like ben
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 54,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWyvern/pseuds/RedWyvern
Summary: Head-cannon story regarding an Au-ra WoL. Told from a variety of PoV, spawned from wanting a reason for why character was 'recreated' on a new server. Time period ranges from the end of ARR to (eventually) current.
Series: Echoes of Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697563
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. Summary, and eventual Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> As is the nature of these things, this fandom in particular, it's head cannony and self focused, since it's a bit difficult to not be so when it comes to how the cannon story is framed. Will range around with various relationships through the time periods, spoilers abound, and the WoL is a frustrated woman in many ways. As things are wont to do, story has also evolved in unexpected ways, and is becoming tied in with 'Living Hands' by Nightmist over at https://archiveofourown.org/works/22213378

Warning of NSFW chapters and brief summaries. Behold my cheesy titles.

1: Table of Contents! Woooooo

2: **Painful Journey -** Every story has a beginning, sometimes more than one.

3: **Tension -** Sometimes the masks hide more than expressions

4: **Searching -** When great minds have no idea what's going on...

5: **Shaded -** Caution and curiosity in equal measure. NSFW chapter

6: **Yet Still Hidden -** Some things take a while to see the light of day.

7: **Peace -** Grasping for what they can

8: **Return -** Little says gone for good in Eorzea

9: **Sparks -** Fires of Emotion

10: **Lessons -** The best lessons have 'impact'. 

11: **Disquiet -** SFW

12: **Deep -** Depth has multiple meanings. SFW

13\. **Questions** \- More questions than answers. 

14\. **Equal Quality** \- Quality can be found in the most worn down of markets.

15\. **Unwelcome Truths** \- The truth will always prevail.

16\. **Truths Unspoken** \- Sometimes the truth simply can't be said. 

17 **. Sound and Silence** \- Words spoken and not

18\. **Off Balance** \- NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have found a wonderfully supportive Discord group over at https://discord.gg/5TdhTCV Please, come join us!


	2. Painful Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we begin at the beginning, which in itself is a facet of an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SFW

* * *

Sheathing her sword and setting her shield upon her back, Atara sighed lightly as she looked over the results of the skirmish with the unexpected Garlean patrol. Truthfully, she had no wish to fight the rank and file military members, she knew so many of them were conscripts unwilling to really engage her, or in any fight really, but their fear of the Empire and retaliation against their homelands had them beaten and bowed and ready to throw themselves into whatever fight appeared. She always tried to make it quick when it was obvious that fighting was the only solution, and targeted the commander in the hope the others might flee should the leader fall.

They never really did, and she hated it.

Another light sigh escaped the au ra's lips as she turned away, her tailtip flicking once, squinting against the harsh Ala Mhigan sun. She was on her way back from another fruitless lead concerning helping the other Scions, and she had thought to walk the last distance to the city in an attempt to clear her head, but the fight just a few moments ago rendered that hope moot. She found the heat of the sun against her black horns and scales to be an annoyance rather than a comfortable warmth today, and with a light grumble, decided that teleportation was the best idea after all. She stepped off the roadway and walked over to one of the nearby large rocks, stepping into the shade it cast and resting quietly for a few moments as she prepared to reach out for the aetheryte and dramatically shorten her journey. She closed her stone red eyes and slightly lifted one hand in front of herself, mentally drawing on the spell as she drew in a slow breath. Some vacant corner of her mind registered a distant voice calling out her name, but it was too late to stop the spell as the darkness closed in around her.

She knew that something was wrong the moment she gave herself into the grasp of the Teleport. The world wrenched and twisted, and had she a physical form for the split moment she was amid the aether, she would have fallen to her knees in pain. It was as if every injury she had ever suffered was back tenfold in the split second that it took her to traverse from one place to another, searing through her body. Her left hand clenched and spasmed, her head ringing with unbearable sound. As she felt herself returning to physical reality, she realized she had no idea where she had intended to go, but her mind was pretty sure it wasn’t the verdant paths of Gridania. At least she was fairly sure it was Gridania, the cool touch of the forest air washing over her pained form like one of her own healing spells, but as the physical reality of the pain hit, darkness stole her senses a moment before she hit the wooden platform with a heavy thud.

* * *

To say the Wood Wailers guarding the Aetheryte were startled at the appearance of the woman abruptly collapsing at their feet would be an understatement. A moment of silence passed before they moved quickly to action, one stepping forward to shield the fallen woman from other travelers as the other beckoned a nearby Conjurer for assistance. In short order the healer directed the guards to carry the woman to the nearby Carline Canopy, securing a room for her to rest once the Conjurer determined there was nothing outwardly wrong with her, at least nothing that the Conjurer felt she could heal. Miounne, knowing full well of who the adventurer in question was, set up a room and attempted to quell the rumors that quickly began to spread at seeing the destroyer of Ultima, champion of the Alliance who stopped the Black Wolf, unconscious and unresponsive while being bundled into the private room. Thankfully, the woman's reputation made it easy for Miounne to dismiss it as exhaustion, and naught else. A messenger was dispatched to the Scions, while Miounne took up vigil near the inn room door.

The older Gridanian woman wasn’t sure what was worse. The sudden loss of the Warriors of Light, or the fear that she was going to lose another strong, kind and dear adventurer, one who had many speaking of her like she were another of those once lost. At least losing the others was part of the massive battle, where there was always the risk of losing people. This, though, the quiet waiting for signs of improvement, especially when outwardly there appeared nothing wrong, was more torment to her as the day stretched on. Brother E-Sumi-Yan quietly slipped into the inn as evening fell, the padjal least likely to draw attention Miounne thought, and the unconscious woman’s equal when it came to mastery of conjuring arts. He nodded silently to the innkeeper as she let him pass and into the room beyond. 

Though she often found the male padjal difficult to read, emotionally, E-Sumi-Yan looked uncharistrically puzzled as he emerged a while later, pausing next to Miounne. She quirked a brow and glanced up at him, noting the expression and the way he rested his fingers on his chin. “E-Sumi-Yan? Are you alright?” She quietly asked, making a motion to stand, but pausing as he held his hand out in a gesture to stop her.

“I am fine, Miounne. Puzzled.” He answered, offering a light smile that did not entirely reach his eyes. “I will be speaking with my sister anon, if Atara awakens, please send word.” E-Sumi-Yan did not give Miounne much time to respond as he finished speaking, turning and walking from the hallway. The answer did not do much to soothe Miounne’s simmering anxieties. Her brow creased into a mild frown as she watched the master of the Conjury guild depart, dismissing the expression with a slight shake of her head as she stood. Quietly, she eased the door to the room open, then stepped over the threshold.

At least Atara didn’t look to be in pain any longer, she thought to herself as she approached the bedside where the adventurer was resting. She picked up a washrag and dipped it into the bowl of water on the nightstand, wringing it out before she leaned over to gently brush the damp cloth over her friends forehead. Atara’s calm expression shifted at the touch, her brow furrowing as she drew in a breath, Miounne keeping herself from startling too much at the sudden movement, smoothly sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed. “Atara?” She softly asked, leaning over to carefully stroke the washcloth over her cheek. 

Though she kept herself calm, Miounne couldn’t help but jerk in surprise as the au-ra’s hand suddenly shot up to grasp her wrist in an iron grip, her eyes flashing open as she made a strangled sort of sound before gasping. Her unfocused eyes wildly searched the room before focusing on Miounne, an inadvertent shudder flowing down the elezan woman’s spine as her mind registered just how wrong Atara’s eyes seemed. There was darkness achingly deep, a shadow of pain, of...betrayal? within the shining red eyes for the bare moment of focus before she blinked, and all that was left was confusion. “M..Miounne?” Atara barely whispered, her tone an odd mix of question and certainty, like stating her name was solidifying rather than a query.

“Yes, my friend, you’re in the Canopy, you’ve given all of us a scare.” Miounne attempted to smile, the grip on her wrist tight enough to cause her fingers to start to tingle. Atara’s eyes flicked away from Miounne’s face to the door, then the mirror, the ceiling, back to Miounne.

“What do you know of me?” Atara asked in a rasping tone, Miounne struggling to identify the emotion below it.

“Pardon?” She asked, confused at the phrasing.

“My actions. Things I’ve done, what do you know of me?” Atara asked again, pushing herself up on one elbow but no further as Miounne reached her other hand to gently hold her shoulder.

Miounne blinked, her confusion continuing. “I..you are my ever stalwart adventurer, our Warrior of Light reborn to us, defender of the realm and champion who defeated Ultima and stopped the Black Wolf. Do you not remember?” 

The answer caused Atara to close her eyes, her features softening as a calm of sorts washed over her. She sank back down onto the bed with a low groan, her grip on Miounne’s wrist relinquishing as she instead reached to press her fingertips to her eyelids. “When was that?” She asked, her tail shifting the sheet over her legs as it thumped once against the bed.

Miounne glanced aside at the calendar kept in the room. “A moon ago, I’d say?” She answered. 

Atara made a low sound in her throat, fingers shifting so her whole hand covered her eyes. “It feels so much longer ago..” She murmured, flexing her left hand in the sheets before bringing it up to look at her palm between her fingers. The puncture wound there was long healed over, scarring on her palm and the scales opposite, her index finger refusing to fully close with the other fingers as she flexed her grip. Her arm trembled.

“From what I am given to understand, you’ve not rested much since even though the realm is enjoying a bit of peace, you must have worn yourself to such exhaustion that when you arrived here you collapsed from it, gave us a scare. You are almost making a habit of it.” Miounne flexed her wrist a bit as she stood from the bed, her mind a strange mix of relief and disbelief that her excuse to quiet the rumors was accurate. “Pray allow me to get you something to eat, and let others know that you’re awake, the Elder Seedseer is most concerned.”

A soft grumble answered her words, Miounne smiling to herself as Atara responded exactly how she expected her to, the adventurer oft short on words but getting her emotion and intention across regardless. Summarily dismissed, Miounne gently patted Atara’s covered knee before slipping from the room, muffled voice heard through the door sending messengers off. Atara rubbed her fingertips over her eyes again before she sighed and pushed herself up to sit, swaying slightly from a wave of disorientation.

The room certainly was the one Miounne had set aside for her after she had participated in Greenbliss….she frowned. But she hadn’t participated in Greenbliss, had she? Though, Miounne had mentioned making a habit of collapsing from exhaustion, and her mind recalled having done so during the event in question, but why did the image of Raubhan, the Flame General, come to her thoughts instead of Kan-E-Senna, the Elder Seedseer? Had she done likewise in Ul’dah recently? Had she even been to Ul’dah recently? Memories of the heat of a dry place brushed over her but her mind struggled to put a name to the land as she ran her hand over her head and the coils of hair she wore. It had to have been Thanalan, right?

It had to have been Thanalan, her thoughts repeated, and she frowned again. Her thoughts were repeating, like she was attempting to convince herself of the thoughts, or like there was an echo. Her eyes opened to look slowly around the room again, her tail shifting with a restless energy in the sheets behind her. An echo. The Echo. She blinked lightly as the memory of her gift struck her thoughts. Perhaps this confusion was her ability adjusting itself to something. She was currently in the place in Gridania where people from all corners of the Alliance would gather, perhaps her confused thoughts of Thanalan was instead somehow her picking up on the thoughts of an Ul’danian traveler staying at the inn as well. Similar enough that only occasionally The Echo would, well, echo. “Oh, yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She grumbled, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. It was already disorienting enough when The Echo would fling her into images of the past, she didn’t need literal echos of words in her mind. 

The woman looked down at herself. She was in a light pair of sleeping clothes, Miounne must have helped change her when she was brought to the room, she considered. Eyes lifted to look for her armor, settling on the folded robe and staff rested across them that were on the dresser nearby. Conjurer...no, White Mage robes. Another frown wrote itself on her features. No, that was certainly wrong, she distinctly remembered the weight of a shield on her shoulders, not a staff. But, perhaps...mayhap she had carried a scepter not too long ago and had shifted to a staff instead, and muscle memory still kept the touch of a shield on her shoulders? Her eyes flicked to her scarred hand. “Useless for a weapon..” she murmured, but then paused, staring at the healed wound. “Wait…when did this injury happen?” Her mind spun as she tried to remember what caused such an obviously damaging wound, the world swaying dizzily as no answer came.

“What is wrong with me?”


	3. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masks hide more than emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SFW

* * *

She didn’t very often actually physically pick up Papalymo, but today was an exception for Yda as she tucked the loudly complaining mage under her arm and ran towards the Hawthorne Hut. The encouraging shout from the sylphs of Little Solace for her to hurry to the Brave One faded behind her as the Monk ran through the Shroud. Though Minfilia managed to keep her composure when she contacted Papalymo via linkshell to alert them to Atara’s sudden appearance and subsequent collapse in Gridania, the tension that flashed through his eyes and then through the sylphs when he shared the communication was thick. She had no time to wait for Papalymo to run with her to the settlement, the athletic woman knew full well she was the fastest runner of the Scions and today was her time to use it. To his credit, the Lalafell stopped complaining shortly thereafter as Yda ran, his expression troubled as he puzzled the news over. 

“Surely the preparations to move to Mor Dhona can’t have been that taxing on her!” He frowned as he held onto Yda’s arm. Memories of Thancred pushing himself to a dangerous point fresh in the mind of all the Scions. 

“Maybe we’ve been asking too much of her, what with her going after all the primals, again! Already...I don’t know what we would do without her.” Yda frowned. She didn’t like the feeling that the news had drawn up, the pit in her stomach that threatened to swallow her whole. She had spent years smothering similar feelings, and had success in doing so, but the thought of losing her new friend, frankly it was terrifying. She wasn’t quite sure why it was so frightening, but it was near the same feeling that she had while waiting outside the Castrum while fire rained down from Ultima’s destruction and they waited word of Atara’s status. She tightened her jaw as she smoothly jumped over a log, the light of the settlement she was aiming for first evidenced through the trees.

Papalymo didn’t voice a counter argument to Yda’s musing, a similar thought having arisen in his own mind. The au-ra adventurer had proven to be the woman he and Yda thought she was that first meeting in the Shroud, and then some, in the comparatively short time that she had been a member of their group. Alone she had done more than any of them had in the five years since the Calamity, and well earned was her reputation as a Warrior of Light reborn. The news of her collapse from seemingly mundane reasons was...unsettling. Enough so that he endured the indignity of being carried like a package under Yda’s arm. If they hadn’t just used their own energy to Teleport to the Hawthorn Hut earlier in their day as they came to speak with the sylphs to advise them of the move of the Scion headquarters, they wouldnt have needed to run to the blue crystal that loomed over the settlement now, but he thanked the gods that they were at least the best positioned to get to Girdania of all the Scions.

People quickly moved out of the way of the running monk as Yda skipped running around the small ledge the hut sat upon and instead jumped from the path below directly to the base of the towering stone. She barely set Papalymo down on his feet before she was reaching for it to use it’s magic, he noting her uncharacteristic urgency as she managed to activate the spell and teleport away a breath before he did. He closed his eyes as the spell took him in its hold and Gridana came into existence around him, sighing as he started towards the inn at a more measured pace, Yda well ahead of him and practically there already. He inwardly grimaced a bit as she nearly ran into Brother E-Sumi-Yan as he departed the inn and not even acknowledging it as she kept on. The padjal blinked after her before his gaze turned and met the lalafell, turning his steps to meet Papalymo halfway. Papalymo bowed his head as he came to a stop before the Conjurer, the gesture returned likewise. 

“Greetings, Scion. I take from Yda’s haste that the message reached your group?” E-Sumi-Yan gently queried, Papalymo noting the mild confusion on his features. 

“It has, and we have come with all speed. Do you know what happened?” He glanced past the padjal towards the entry to the inn. “We were told she collapsed as soon as she arrived, has there been any change?”

E-Sumi-Yan shook his head slightly, mild frown on his lips. “She was unresponsive to my examination. There is no sign of physical injury, but..” He paused a moment, then gestured to Papalymo. “Come with me to the Lotus Strand, I would have you hear what I am to say to my sister.” Papalymo felt himself drawn forward towards the inn, but hearing there was no change, he knew he’d be best use with whatever the padjal’s had in mind, nodding slightly as he moved to walk with the Conjurer. E-Sumi-Yan nodded, looking to a nearby guard and quietly requesting that Miounne be advised of where Papalymo would be as they walked towards the seat of the nation. 

Yda didn’t personally register either E-Sumi-Yan’s appearance, nor the fact that Papalymo wasn’t with her any more as she rushed into the Canopy. Her eyes quickly searched the main room, she moving towards the man in charge of the rooms. “Where?” Was all she needed to ask, the innkeeper stepping aside from the gate to the hallway of rooms as he gestured down the hall. “Mother Miounne is outside her room.” He nodded slightly as Yda moved past him wordlessly, looking down the hallway with a frown. There was an empty chair by the door furthest down, but she didn’t see the head of the Adventurer Guild. About to turn to ask the innkeeper, her words caught in her throat as she spied Miounne opening the door and stepping out.

Miounne felt a further sense of relief as she caught sight of Yda at the entry to the hallway, gesturing for the Scion to approach, though she was already on the way towards her. Greetings were skipped as Yda jumped right to the point, looking like she was about to move past and into the room beyond. “Is she alright? What happened?” Miounne stayed blocking the door for the moment.

“The Conjurers found nothing wrong, but she seems exhausted. She just woke a few moments ago…” Miounne glanced over her shoulder to the closed door, then to Yda as she reached to put a hand on the hyur’s shoulder. “She seems...heavily disoriented. I do not ask what it is you Scions do, but I know that she had to face the Primals again, is it..?” 

“I know, it’s too much.” Yda finished Miounne’s thought, certain of it in her own mind as well. “But...I don’t think even we could get her to stop if we asked.” The monk smiled faintly, tension leaving her shoulders as Miounne’s words settled on her. Atara was awake, that was a start. 

“Perhaps the Scions should find a partner for her like you and Papalymo, at least to keep her from doing this to herself.” Miounne huffed a little, but then smiled lightly. “Please encourage her to rest. I needs must send a messenger to the Seedseer.” She stepped aside from the door and squeezed Yda’s shoulder, noting the frown on the monks face as the only part of her expression she could read, moving down the hall towards the front desk after. 

Yda paused in front of the closed door, her hand on the knob. Her earlier emotions, the near panic, continued to gnaw at her thoughts and tighten her stomach. Confusion whirled in the back of her mind at the intensity of the feelings, it having been a while in her life since she felt something so negative so strongly. She knew she was sure to hear a lecture from Papalymo later, but right now, she decided that didn’t matter. Hearing muttering from the room beyond, the knowledge that her friend was now awake cast a sense of comfort that helped steel her spine. She would worry about the strength of her feelings later. Hanging her head a moment, she took a deep breath and held it before summoning a smile to her features and swinging the door open, stepping in.

“What is wrong with me?” Were the first words from Atara that reached Yda’s ears, the adventurer sitting on the edge of the bed and looking down to her left hand. 

Yda had noted the hand injury when they first met out of natural instinct for sizing up her surroundings, knowing it to be such that would prevent the adventurer from attempting several of the common job types like her own, but Atara had an aptitude for the Conjuring arts that rivaled the padjals, enough so that she was considered the only non-padjal White Mage in the Alliance. But the woman was looking at her hand like she was noticing the scarring for the first time. Yda pushed that thought aside as she drew up her shoulders and a smile to her face. “We were wondering the same thing!” She replied to the question, walking towards Atara when the woman looked up to her in surprise.

“You’ve certainly scared the whole lot of us today!” Yda continued, a slight waver to her voice as she came up in front of the seated woman. She crouched down, looking up to her as she reached up to rest a hand on Atara’s knee.

Atara noted the mild tremble to Yda’s hand that matched the waver in her voice, her eyes turning down to the hand on her knee as she reflexively rested her scarred hand down over top of it in a reassuring gesture. “Yda, I…” She frowned, that ‘echo’ of a thought and contrasting sensations going through her mind again, this time when she said Yda’s name. Knowing she was right to call her friend that but the sensation that it was -wrong- was intense and dizzying. She closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly in a futile attempt to clear it.

“H-hey, maybe you should lay down again, you look awful dizzy..” Yda worried, watching closely as the au-ra swayed a bit in place. 

“No, no. I’m fine...I..well, I will be. I’m just..” Atara protested as she touched at her face with her free hand, fingertip trailing along the edge of the scales on her cheek. “Tired, I guess. I don’t know what happened. But I'm full glad I had enough thought to come to Gridania.”

Yda didn’t seem convinced as the woman trailed off, but when she continued and insisted on being just tired, after a moment of pause she accepted it, a very small part of her not wanting to argue and find something she didn’t want to. “Hey, Papalymo and I are here now, just rest. Miounne was letting Kan-E-Senna know, I'm sure she’s talking to Papalymo now too! I won’t let anybody bother you.” She found herself grateful for her mask as she watched Atara’s expression shift between more emotions in the few moments than she had seen on the woman’s face the entire time she was with the Scions. Not even when they faced the daunting task of rescuing the other Scions did Atara show such a level of emotion, and when dealing with Ultima, all she saw from her friend was determination, and later joy. Seeing the pained look that crossed her face for some reason when she mentioned Papalymo’s name, and the confusion immediately after, it took all of Yda’s training to squash the urge to take her friend into her arms and not let go. She squeezed Atara’s knee. “Please, Atara. Just rest.” 

The contrast of sensations and emotions was dizzying, bordering on making her ill as Atara struggled with the thoughts. She was Xaela, she was Mol, she was a follower of the Gods will, she was meant to be certain of her own emotions so she could clearly follow what it was that They wanted from her, to not know the source or reason for the sharp contrasts and opposites had her mind in a spin. Was The Echo finally interfering with the sensations she used to guide her path? Was her emotional nature as a Xaela somehow finally breaking free of her tight control to muddle the messages and sensations sent from the Gods to guide her path? Had her exhaustion stripped her to the emotional maturity of a child, hence her physical reactions to it? Even those thoughts further made her dizzy as she tried to reason why she felt such sorrow and joy at hearing Papalymo’s name. She raised both hands to cover her face as she sighed muffledly. “I’m sorry, Yda.” The words came unbidden to her mouth, and again she wondered at even the meaning behind them. Sorry for what?

“Tsk.” Yda lightly clicked her tongue. “Don’t be sorry, you’re my friend, of course I’m going to worry about you.” The Ala Mighan took her apology to be for the concern she caused, Atara’s thoughts settling with that. 

For the first time that day, Atara felt her lips curl into a smile at Yda’s words and the presence of the monk so nearby. “Stay close?” She quietly asked as she brought her hands down, eyes searching Yda’s face as she carefully shifted to lay down again. 

“Of course.” Yda assured, smoothly standing and reaching to help the au-ra lay down, covering her with the sheets. “I’ll be outside, keeping Papalymo out.” Yda grinned that familiar crooked smile, Atara nodding slightly as she settled. “Just rest already.” The energetic woman teased, then nodded to herself some as Atara’s eyes closed. She hovered quietly there for a few moments until she noted Atara’s breathing to be steady and calm, then quietly slipped from the room. 

She collapsed into the chair vacated by Miounne with a huff, head dropping back with a soft thud against the wall. Something was still off, still wrong, and she hoped Papalymo was off gathering the ideas of what exactly it was. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she settled into vigil: still, quiet, and protective. 


	4. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When even great minds have little idea of what's going on...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SFW

* * *

Papalymo leaned against his staff some as he listened intently to E-Sumi-Yan as the padjal talked to his elder sister, the Seedseer of Gridana, Kan-E-Senna. The first conjurer to assist the fallen adventurer had told E-Sumi-Yan that she could find nothing physically wrong, but stated that the womans aether felt ‘strange’, unable to define what ‘strange’ meant other than it unnerved her. Initially, E-Sumi-Yan had attributed the unease to the simple strength of Atara’s presence, but as he recalled the other conjurer’s experience on the front lines of the battle that had lead to the Calamity, he thought otherwise of that sentiment and had set out to see if there was something that he could do for the adventurer instead.

All he could do was come to the same conclusion as the other, and was in the middle of expressing his frustration to his sister.

“I do not want for you to rush to the Inn to further validate or perhaps explain what it is I felt, sister, as that is likely to draw unwanted attention to her, but it vexes me to not clearly understand. To lack the words to describe what it is I feel is not an occurrence I experience much.” The younger padjal frowned and looked aside towards the waterfall in the background. 

Kan-E smiled lightly. “It hath been an age since you found something so puzzling, hasn’t it.” She mildly commented, closing her eyes as she held her staff quietly in front of her. “I need not go to the Inn to confirm your feeling.” Papalymo and E-Sumi both looked up to the Seedseer at her words, Papalymo not bothering to hide his surprise at the comment.

“My lady?” He asked, almost hesitantly. The slowly growing concern in the back of his mind was nigh impossible to push down, the worry that they pushed her too hard, too fast. Or the thought, he was ashamed to admit, that she wasn’t going to be as much of a help to the Scions and their cause as he hoped, which he chastised himself as selfish and cold for thinking. She was a person, a friend with her own goals in life, not some tool to be used to breaking.

The white robed woman turned away from the other two and stepped over towards her seat, gesturing to her guards in a motion to have them withdraw some distance, the lancers exchanging glances but moving as bid. Once they were far enough away to ensure the privacy of her words, Kan-E spoke softly. “I felt it as she came into Gridana. Like a push, a surge of aether. The Elementals…” She paused. “..they are not distressed, but felt discomfort.”

Papalymo made a thoughtful sound. “Do you still feel it?”

Kan-E shook her head slightly as she turned to face the others. “The surge has passed, but our friend still has a stronger presence than I have felt from her. But it is...as if it is off step from everything else.” 

“Yes, that is it. Like it...she..is both a step ahead and a step behind at the same time.” E-Sumi agreed with his sister, looking relieved to have words to put to the sensation. “We needs must investigate the aetheryte, to be certain that it is not the cause.”

“Pray leave that to me.” Papalymo internally felt relief at being presented with something he would be good at, always feeling rather useless when healers were needed, as his knowledge of healing spells was basic at best. “But...do you think she will regain her...pace?” He briefly fumbled for the words.

The two padjals exchanged a look, quietly questioning the other, Kan-E speaking after a moment. “I cannot yet say. Convince her to rest, to stay here for a time. I will observe her and seek guidance.”

The lalafell frowned faintly. “Convincing her to rest will not be easy, but…” he shuddered slightly as the memory of what happened to Thancred crossed his mind again. “..we will make sure that she does so. We can ill afford for her to be anything but well.” Again, Papalymo felt a pang of near guilt at his phrasing, unable to shake the sensation that he spoke of her like a tool and not a friend. He paused for a moment. “What should we tell her? She will undoubtedly ask.” 

“She deserves the truth of it.” Kan-E calmly replied. “That her aether is somehow offset and that we are presently investigating the cause and a solution.” She lightly gestured for her guards to return. “If it pleases you, I would have you contact your companions in the Scions for any assistance.” 

Papalymo nodded and bowed lightly. “It would greatly please me to do so, as they are eagerly anticipating communication from me. May I ask for permission to speak with the two of you personally with any developments, and my findings after investigating the aetheryte? Constantly sending messengers may prove less than secure and possibly raise suspicions or concerns. Your people are quite used to Yda and myself coming and going to speak with you by now.”

Kan-E nodded as E-Sumi did likewise. “Of course my friend. A wise suggestion.” She prepared to speak further, but as if summoned, a messenger approached, quieting conversation. Shared relief passed through the room upon hearing from Miounne that Atara had awakened, Papalymo nodding slightly at word that Yda was with her. He departed shortly thereafter, leaving the two padjal talking with each other over the events of the day as he made his way towards the aetheryte clearing. 

Once he came to a quiet part of the pathways that wound through the city, Papalymo stepped aside and stood silently in the nook of a tree, collecting his thoughts. He knew he needed to contact the others sooner than later, and upon reflection, decided to do so before he got himself lost in prodding the teleportation stone. He reached up and gently tapped the linkshell, focusing on Minfilia.

“Minfilia? Tis I. We have something of a situation, but let me first say that Atara is awake and Yda is with her.” He smiled lightly at hearing the noise of relief and the sound that he suspected was her sitting heavily down in a chair.

“Truly? Thank the light.” Minfilia sounded like she had been pacing. “Do we know what befell her?”

Papalymo paused for a moment. “Not entirely. The padjal have been able to determine that her aether is off balance, and I am to investigate the aetheryte to ensure it is not the cause.”

There was a similar pause from Minfilia. “Off balance? How so? Urianger and Y’shtola will wish to know.” 

“It was described as if she were both a step behind and a step ahead of the general flow of aether. I would welcome any assistance they were to provide. I shall update you anon on the status of the aetheryte crystal. No one else has come through and collapsed, so it may not be the reason, but it behooves us to investigate it regardless.” Papalymo looked down the pathway towards the plaza, the later hour leaving that particular corner of the city quieter.

Minfilia sighed. “Agreed. It would do little good to lose such a vital contact to the city, but safety demands it be checked. But, Papalymo...please make sure that Atara rests. Tell Yda as well.” 

Another small pang of guilt, this time he able to identify the source as from his mild frustration at the repeated insistence from yet another source. “Of course, Minfilia. I intend to have Yda distract her and keep her near to the city, the Elder Seedseer wishes to keep an eye on her as well.” 

“Mm...yes. Please do not hesitate to call with any updates or if there is anything further we can do for all of you there.” Minfilia had the tone she usually had when someone, likely Thancred, was attempting to get her attention, and Papalymo smiled, stating affirmation before closing the connection. With a light sigh, he continued on.


	5. Shaded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caution and curiosity in equal measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SFW

After determining that there was nothing wrong with the aetheryte, Papalymo departed Gridania to join Y’shtola in Mor Dhona after spending a day convincing Atara to spend at the very least a week in Gridania to rest, the Warrior listening more to his logic than Yda’s youthful pleading for a break. Yda still considered it a win, however, and promised to ‘get things ready’ as she left Atara sitting in the Carline Canopy’s main dining room at the front desk with Miounne. 

“She’s like a puppy.” Atara mused into her tea cup, Miounne laughing softly as she set one of her eel pies in front of the healer. The au-ra looked up to the elezen. “What even is there to get ready?”

“I would be hard pressed to say, my friend.” Miounne smiled as she sorted some paperwork, hiding a smile at hearing the light grumping sound from the adventurer. Atara shook her head some but settled quietly, watching Miounne work. It had to have been perhaps the first time Atara really took stock of what it was the woman did, her eyes trailing over the massive cabinet and set of drawers behind the counter. She glanced over to the counter where local petitioners would leave jobs for the local freelance adventurers, a similar set of cabinets and shelves there, a visitor from the Moogles Gift and a few adventurers looking over the postings. Shifting a bit, her eyes turned to the room proper, watching the bustle in the large room. 

Her brow furrowed as she tried to visualize what it was like when she had first arrived in Gridania. The city was at high tension, the Ixal recently grown more bold in their attacks. The Wood Wailers prowled about, suspicious of every new face. There were a lot fewer adventurers around, then, but now there was a clear variety in the faces of the room. She could pick out the distinctive clothing that Ul’dannians tended to wear, even so far from their sands; the straight backed stance of Limosans expecting the waves to rock the world at any moment. A light smile came to her face as she observed. 

“It’s in large part thanks to you, my friend.” The innkeeper softly spoke, turning from her work and catching where the other was looking. Atara quickly looked back to Miounne, brow arched and a dubious expression on her features that caused the elezen to laugh. “You doubt it? Even before you felled Garuda I noticed an increase in the number. You inspire others to reach out to help their kin. Here, look.” She turned and pulled a book from near the end of the shelf, setting it down on the counter. “This is the book you signed when you came here.” She flipped it open and showed the other, Atara’s eyes trailing over her own handwriting of her name, part of her thoughts registering the almost formal level of writing she had in contrast to the quicker signatures and scrawls of others. “About the middle of the page, in the center of the tome.” Miounne replaced the bookmark she kept there and closed it, showing Atara the side. “The rest of this filled faster than the first half, especially once you helped to clear the Deepcroft. Then the rest...” She set the book back on the shelf, then pointed to the one open on the counter. “..began to fill after you felled Ifrit. Word spread first through the Grand Companies, and then out into the populace. Many of these adventurers have since settled into working at various places through the Twelveswood and beyond and do not actively travel any longer, many joined the Wood Wailers or the Gods Quiver, but that they were drawn out to help their fellow countrymen is a testament to your influence.”

The elezen woman smiled as she watched the expression shift over the au-ra’s face from disbelief to quiet embarrassment and a touch of shyness, Atara muttering into her teacup. “I would not consider myself influential…” She closed her eyes for a moment before smiling lightly, glancing up to Miounne. “..but if it’s helped Gridania and the realm? Then I suppose I can accept that praise.”

Accepting that as likely the most she’d get from the woman, Miounne smiled and turned back to her work, the two enjoying the others quiet company as the afternoon passed.

* * *

Still finding herself quite tired, Atara eventually excused herself to her room again, and was just about to lay down when Yda reappeared at the door. “Atara! I’ve got everything set, just like I said I would. We’re good for as long as we want!” She walked over to flop down with that strange mix of a lack of grace and clear control over her limbs on the floor next to the head of the bed, looking up to her bemused friend as she laid down and curled towards the edge so she could look down to the hyur woman.

“What exactly is ‘set’?” Atara finally was able to ask, now that Yda was holding still. 

“Our room, of course.” Yda stated matter-of-factly, crossing her legs in front of herself. Atara blinked, and pointedly looked around the room they were currently in, then back to the monk. 

“But…Miounne said it wouldn’t be an issue to set a bed here for you..?” Atara curiously, and confusedly, probed.

“Oh, I know! But it wouldn’t really be resting to stay here, would it? All the people coming and going, and we’re in Gridania! The water here is perfect to swim in, none of the salt that dries on you in Vylbrand and you don’t feel like you’re endangering some villages only water supply like you do in Thanalan.” Yda gestured a bit as she spoke, Atara hiding a small smile in her pillow as she watched the animated woman talk. Yda kept on for a bit about how glad she was to have been assigned to Gridania out of the city states, Atara only partly registering it as she found herself sleepily admiring the woman’s profile as she spoke. A tiny part of her mind nagged a bit at the mask the monk wore, the fingers of her hand twitching faintly with the urge to reach out and pull it free. For not the first time she wondered why Yda was so insistent upon wearing it, part of Atara’s mind considering how it stole away something she thought she’d enjoy seeing. Yda’s emotions were clear in her words and actions, surely it was mirrored fully in her expression, and Atara wanted to see it. She was fairly certain that Yda had blue eyes, glimpses of the color through the holes in the mask, but she realized, with a small flush of heat to her cheeks, that she wanted to know for certain, irrational frustration with the inanimate piece of armor flowing through her. 

Of all the other Scions, she always felt the most ‘normal’ around Yda. With Minfilia, she had someone who understood the troubles the Echo often posed, and Y’shtola was like a familiar classmate. Thancred she felt was almost an annoying sibling, younger, though she knew the man to be older than she. Urianger was still a puzzle, one she trusted largely because of the others, and Papalymo felt like someone who always needed to be doing something and she was a vital part of his plans. He was less of an enigma than Urianger but still one she didn’t have an entire grasp on. Alphinaud was a dear friend and a respected one that she felt a sisterly protective affection for, and though her meeting with his sister was brief, she had a desire to get to know Alisae as well.

But Yda...Yda treated nearly everyone the same, no matter your rank or your station in life, you were a person deserving of her kindness, like Yda had no doubt that most people were just trying to get by. Chipper and bubbly, a ray of brightness amid frequently dark situations. Atara didn’t doubt that Yda understood the seriousness of some of the situations they had been in, always able to note the slight change in how the monk held herself when she was ready to fight, but Atara wondered if she even had the capacity to truly be anything but positive. How had Y’shtola put it that time in Mor Dhona before the rescue of the others? ‘I wonder if you are ever not enthusiastic.’ She found herself wondering that as the blond woman continued to ramble along. “So they’re giving us one of the apartments in the Lavender Fields that they give to the non-natives who join the Serpents! It’s really nice, way off in a private corner and there’s a big big pond and waterfall…”

Atara blinked. “Wait..what?”

“What what?” Yda replied.

“Who’s giving us an apartment? Why?” Atara lifted her head from the pillow to make sure she could hear Yda with both her horns. 

“Oh, the Elder Seedseer insisted on it when I went to ask about somewhere other than the inn, and anyway, you’re like, what, a sergeant in the Serpents anyway?”

“You asked -Kan-E-Senna- for a room to stay in?” Atara asked again, then laughed at the confused nod from the monk. 

“Who else would I ask? I suppose I could have gone over to the commander of the Order, but Kan-E wanted to know if we were going to stay like Papalymo wanted us to so I asked her when I was there to let her know! Why are you laughing?”

* * *

Atara had to admit that it was a rather nice part of the Twelveswood the Gridanians had set aside for the adventurers who came to aid the realm. Shaded by the giant, towering trees of the forest, alive with natural life and adventurers enjoying the company of like minded individuals and a little place to call their own. Or a large place, Atara considered as they walked past a sizeable near mansion, glancing at the placard out front and noting it to be the headquarters of a Free Company. Her staff tapped softly against the stones as she walked a slight step behind Yda towards the tall apartment building in the distance, quietly smiling at the barely contained energy from the other woman. Once in the apartment, Yda buzzed around curiously as Atara settled to sit in one of the larger, cushy chairs by the fireplace, closing her eyes for a moment. While she hadn’t passed out again, she was still frequently hit with spells of dizziness, but as it was only a few days since her initial arrival in Gridania, she wasn’t surprised at the lingering lack of focus. 

“Hmm, they gave us one large room together with two beds, hope you don’t mind me, but I don’t snore.” Yda declared as she passed through from what was apparently the bedroom. “Huge tub, I swear we almost wouldn’t need to go out to swim.” Her voice trailed off softer as she slipped into the area set up as a kitchen. The apartment itself was large, but only three rooms, the large main room split between dining and living, a bedroom, and a bath making up the other two. “Do you know how to cook, Atara?”

The mage smiled, keeping her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the chair. “I do, but...it’s fairly bare bones foraging sort of cooking, I don’t carry around the spices that my grandmother would use.” 

“Well that’s a step up from what I can do!” Yda chirped, coming over to set down on the sofa, Atara opening one eye to look over to her. “I know a few things but Papalymo is picky about food so I let him do things.”

Atara chuckled lightly and closed her eye again. “I am...not surprised.” Though she couldn’t see it, she could -feel- Yda stick her tongue out at her, holding back a grin by lightly biting the inside of her cheek. 

“Oh don’t you start it now! Papalymo, Y’shtola, fff.” Yda pouted. 

Another soft chuckle pulled from the Warrior, she opening her eyes and shaking her head a little as she pushed herself from the chair to stand, stepping forward and reaching out to lightly rest her hand on Yda’s shoulder. “No, no, forgive me, I didn’t mean it like that.” She gave her friend a warm smile. “Your...youness is a comfort.” Her cheeks colored slightly and she quickly turned her face away as she moved to walk towards the rest of the apartment to check it out herself. 

Yda paused as she watched Atara’s back as the mage stepped away from her. She had wanted to say something, to respond to the gentle apology, but the words stuck in her throat. For not the first time in the few days she was thankful for her mask. Yda knew she was an animated, relatively easy to read person, but at least her mask let her eyes move without judgement, without giving away her deeper thoughts. And right now, her eyes were focused on the black length of Atara’s tail as it swayed behind her, sharply contrasting the color of her robes, so easy to see against the field of white. They followed it to watch the gentle sway of hips, the quiet ease that her fellow Scion moved that betrayed her skill in multiple fields. She knew that she had a sureness in her body, but it came from a lifetime of training as a monk, Atara’s confident motion seemed to radiate from within with a strength that made Yda surprised the au-ra wasn’t beating away suitors. She smirked at that thought as Atara passed into the other room. Thancred had flirted with her, once, and that was the last time he had even teasingly did so. None of the Scions knew what it was Atara had quietly said to Thancred to get him to stop, but whatever it was, it had worked, and Thancred and Atara behaved more like family than anything more, since then. Maybe there was something in her eyes that scared men away, that fiery red glow, or her being a race still not very common in Eorzea. 

She shook her head. “If that’s the reason, I don’t know whats wrong with people.” Yda muttered to herself, having found the exotic, draconic look of the au-ra fascinating. She had felt her scales when Atara held her hand, they were firmer than skin, but smooth still, the transition from soft skin to scale somehow not jarring or overly distinct. The richness of the color of her scales was most highlighted on the woman's tail, and echoed on her horns, managing to catch the light in such a way to draw Yda’s attention, like the individual movement of a tree branch sometimes caught her eye different than the rest of the boughs. She seemed to have an aversion to hoods or hats, Atara did, opting for circlets or masks if anything, leaving her horns and the thick tangle of coiled hair loose. Yda appreciated, and was a touch jealous of that. Her blond hair needed to be contained within her turban for multiple reasons, not the least of which was her fighting style, to avoid being grappled. Being able to watch the sway of Atara’s hair compliment the sway of her tail as she walked, and do so privately behind her mask, was a boon to the woman. She felt her cheeks color a touch as the anticipation of the days to come promised a chance to see Atara in a different way she hadn’t before. 


	6. Bared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposure and acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First NSFW chapter, F/F, obviously. Please be kind!

The fact that it was raining for the next while put a mild damper on the mood of the two Scions as they settled into their little vacation. Though Atara had spoken some regrets at not being available to help the final bits of moving from the Waking Sands, Yda practically rejoiced in not needing to do heavy work, and Atara found herself a bit startled in how lazy the monk could be when she had nothing pressing to do. Like a switch to turn her on and off, Atara quickly figured out that all she had to do was ask Yda to do something and she’d pop up like a mammet on strings and get whatever it was done, though if she had a difference in opinion about how that thing was meant to be done, Atara could be full sure she’d hear about it. It wasn’t so much that Yda was complaining, as she’d do whatever the task at hand was, as much as she just wanted to be sure that someone knew her thoughts on it. Atara considered this was likely the only way Yda could really influence the decisions that Papalymo would make when the pair were out in the field. 

The two women had taken to being lazy about dressing and armoring up, on vacation after all, Yda disregarding her sabatons and gloves for her loose, Ala Mhigan style blouse and the red shorts she always wore and the perpetual turban, while Atara wore an older white mage robe of hers over her smallclothes and a pair of far eastern style wooden sandals. Yda had expressed a desire to swim even if it was raining, and Atara had to silently wonder if the monk would swap her turban for a swim cap and mask for goggles, and if it would afford her a chance to see the woman’s full face or not. 

Though Yda almost desperately wanted to go out, and would at least once a day go for a run even in the rain, she easily set the desire to do so aside as the wish to make sure her charge was resting and recovering was a much greater one. As subtle as she could, she’d watch Atara for any signs of being struck with the mysterious issue with her aether that had them there in the first place. She knew Atara thought she was hiding the dizziness that would strike her occasionally, more than she was comfortable with, Yda could tell that the brief closing of eyes to steady wasn't just a quiet moment of contemplation. Though she had told Yda the first time it had happened, she kept it silent since, and the monk wondered exactly what prompted that withdrawal from being open about it. She was briefly drawn from her thoughts at the sound of the knocking at the door, hopping up from the couch before Atara could stand and moving to answer it.

Opening the door found the daily visit from one of the conjurers from the guild there. As she greeted the woman, she thought she caught a slight sigh of frustration from behind her. Stepping to the side, Yda let the conjurer pass and walk over to where Atara was seated, shutting the door and stepping over into the kitchen area where she could quietly observe from behind one of the tall shelves. Though she couldn’t hear what they were talking about, she could tell Atara was saying nothing was wrong, despite Yda knowing it to not be true. Just earlier that day the mage had stumbled and barely caught herself from falling as she came from the bedroom, Yda easily able to hear the stumble from where she was in the bath. But as Atara hadn’t said anything, Yda didn’t bring it up. She felt it gnawing at her gut now, however, frowning quietly as she listened to her friend dismiss the concerns of the healer. 

She lingered in the kitchen for a bit as the conjurer departed, watching the moment that Atara let herself relax once the woman was gone, like a balloon slowly deflating. She lightly bit her lower lip for a moment, fingers flexing at her side as she tried to plot out the words that she wanted to say as she came back over towards the seating area. 

“Why are you hiding it?” Internally Yda groaned at herself, her brain incapable of the subtle probing questions she had wanted to do.

Atara glanced up as Yda approached, her eyes darkening a touch at the question as she smoothly looked away to the book in her lap. “I’m not hiding anything.” She countered, the au-ra internally grimacing. Eyes saw more from behind that mask than she had thought. “It is passing, and I am recovering, as I told the conjurer they insist on sending every day.”

Yda stepped closer and stood in front of her friend, hands continuing to fidget as she didn’t know what to do with them for once. “They insist on it because you scared everyone, Atara! You shouldn’t hide such things…”

“Yes I should!” Atara’s quick reply caught Yda off guard, the monk taking a half step back as intense red eyes lifted to her face, her jaw tight. “When...after the attack on the Sands, when we didn’t know what happened to everyone...and then even when we -did- know where the others were kept, do you know how hard it was to keep the Alliance leaders from just crumbling? Not to mention the people of the city states. People...I have to be as a marker stone for them, like those which marked the plains of my peoples ancestral homeland.” 

Atara turned her face away after that, brow furrowed with frustration. “I have to be okay, or the entire damn realm becomes not okay. So I hide it until it passes, and it will.” She growled out as she glared at the crackling fire nearby, the occasional rising sparks mirroring the color of the glow of her eyes. 

Yda stood mute as she looked down to her friend, watching the emotions fight in her eyes while her tail tip flicked back and forth with a tense energy. In her thoughts she could hear the others: Minfilia, the Alliance leaders, the other Scions, your average person on the street, the leader of the Grand Company. ‘Our stalwart friend’, ‘We knew you wouldn’t let us down’, ‘Ever a friend’ of whatever city state was in trouble now. Papalymo had wondered if the preparations for the move to Mor Dhona were taxing on her, but now Yda found herself wondering if, well, everything, was taxing on her friend. It occurred to her that the light in Atara’s eyes was different than it was that first meeting in the Twelveswood, before everything was placed on the adventurer’s shoulders.

“Oh...Atara…” She stepped forward again, sinking smoothly down to her knees in front of her, turning her face up to watch hers as she reached to rest her hand on the mage’s knee. “...you’ve had to hide so much, haven’t you?” 

Red eyes lidded as Yda finally spoke, Atara keeping her face turned away, resting one hand on her stomach to try to still the anxiety within. She didn’t answer the question, fearful of the edge she felt herself teetering on. The other side of the edge held the hope to find something she felt she had lost, the chance to be more real again, to shed the doubts that had begun to gnaw at her thoughts. To remember she was real, and alive, and her own person. But the risks...desperately her senses reached out for the whispers of the primal gods that guided her path, seeking their guidance, afraid to choose for herself that what hovered so near. 

Slowly, Yda reached up her free hand, hesitant, abruptly afraid that she was going to touch a porcelain doll and risk it breaking with her strength. She didn’t try to still the soft tremble of her fingertips as they brushed against the bit of bare skin at Atara’s cheek, then when the woman didn’t turn away, gently along the edge of the fingers of scales that curled around from the back of her jaw. Atara kept her eyes closed, but Yda felt her so slightly turn towards the touch, a softly shaking breath exhaling from the mage as her shoulders rounded as that stony strength shifted to sand. Gently, Yda’s hand continued to move, slowly cupping her friends cheek, the tremble of her hand leaving as she felt a steady determination growing inside of her as she smoothly stroked her thumb over the curve of Atara’s cheekbone, feeling the au-ra lean her head into her hand. ‘Who protects the protectors?’ she heard herself ask in her mind, a voice from her youth. 

A tear slipped from those closed eyes, wet and hot where it ran into Yda’s thumb. She softly stroked it away, her other hand squeezing like an anchor on Atara’s knee. Finally turning her face towards her and opening her eyes, Atara looked down to the hyur kneeling in front of her, the room silent save for the crackle of the fire and the soft sound of the rain hitting the windows outside. Words seemed pointless as she looked to her fellow Scion, letting the tears slowly slip free as she hesitantly stepped ever closer to the teetering edge of that unknown and the desire to leap. A light sound grumbled from her throat as her searching eyes met with the impassive black mask. Concern etched her features as she slowly reached forward, afraid she was going to startle the woman into drawing away even as she tried to lean into the touch on her face in a silent plea for her to stay put. Her own fingers trembled as they brushed along Yda’s cheeks, thumbs sliding below the edge of the mask and gripping at the edges of her turban. 

Breathlessly, the two paused, neither moving as they looked to the other. With a tiny, barely seen but certainly felt nod, Yda gave her quiet consent as Atara nodded back, faintly biting at her lower lip. She drew in a slow breath through her nose as she lifted her hands, gently sliding the mask, then the turban, free, letting it fall to the floor behind Yda with a soft thud. 

Like the sky above the sea, was the first thing to cross over Atara’s thoughts as her eyes finally locked onto the deep blue of Yda’s. As her hands drew back from discarding the turban, they gently tangled into the waves of soft blond that had tumbled free, leaning forward some as she found herself drawn into those eyes she had longed to see, startled to see wetness welling up there as well. “You hide too, don’t you?” She softly asked, feeling Yda’s fingers begin to gently trail along the edge of her scales on her cheek, running slightly under her jaw to follow the line along her neck. “You don’t need to say anything, I promise.” Atara softly murmured as she cupped Yda’s cheeks in her hands, holding her face still so she could commit the image to memory.

‘This is what that pit in my stomach was for..’ Yda thought to herself as she looked to the other woman, finally understanding why the fear was so deep those days ago when hearing Atara was ill. It wasn’t the same sort of level of loss that the others feared, it was a deeper horror at losing what she now realized she had desired, unknown to herself. The fear of never being able to get to know her deeper, to get closer to her. The first mystery she had ever wanted to unravel, the first person who called to her deeper than a friend. She swallowed as her own tears fell to Atara’s hands, a smile drawn up when the other promised understanding. The cool air on her face and head with the removal of the turban was something she rarely felt anymore, certainly never when with someone, having even gotten into the habit of sleeping with at least the mask on, so the other woman hadn’t seen the sight hidden below. The loss of the weight on her head was like a symbol of a greater weight she felt lifting, feeling herself striding with great confidence towards that edge of her own. Her eyes watched as Atara’s took in her features, the softly shaking hand in her hair, the gentle brush of warm air over her wrist and arm where her breath exhaled over it as she touched to the edge of black scale on soft reddish skin, feeling Atara’s heartbeat fly through her veins, thinking that her own was no doubt a similar speed. She felt herself at that edge, and could see Atara on the other side of it, both waiting to see what the other did. Yda smiled to herself, knowing that she had promised herself to do everything she could to avoid having regrets after her life in Ala Mhigo, resolving to take the step.

Atara’s breath caught in her throat as Yda rose up on her knees and leaned in, keeping her hands on her cheeks even as she moved, those blue eyes she was lost in suddenly so close and then closing as she pressed her lips to hers. The touch sent a soft shudder down Atara’s spine as she let her eyes close, a gentle noise lost between their lips as she let herself fall forward over the edge Yda too had stepped off of, confident that at least she wouldn’t be alone in the consequences. The monk made a low sound as she pressed more firmly to the intimate touch, hand gently cupping around Atara’s neck to pull her closer, experimentally pressing her nails lightly into the scales at the back of her neck, feeling the other woman shift towards the edge of the chair. As the mage’s hands slid from cupping her cheeks to instead tangle one in her hair, the other sliding behind her shoulder as she leaned in with her arms wrapped about Yda’s neck, Yda reached her free hand up to Atara’s side, grip coaxing and guiding her from the edge of the chair to instead be on the floor with her, white mage robes parting as her legs shifted to straddle Yda’s thighs as she settled with a soft sound. 

Each gasped softly as lips parted from the kiss, Atara’s neck arched to Yda’s hand as she leaned her forehead to the other womans, seated above her some from the position she found herself drawn into. “Yda..” She murmured softly, her fingers stroking through the blond length of hair as her other hand tightened behind her shoulder, anchoring herself to her. Her heart thundered with joy at finding the other side of that edge to hold something she knew was more precious than she imagined, knowing now why the gods didn’t answer her seeking questions...the answer was right in front of her, a feeling of satisfaction from the guiding spirits that Atara had found what they intended for her to. Her tail coiled around her side, Yda shivering as it caressed over the side of her blouse. 

Yda decided that words would be useless as she heard her name softly spoken, simply smiling to Atara for a moment before she tilted her head back again, lifting her chin to press again into a kiss, firmer and more demanding this time as she used her strength to encourage the au-ra mage to yield, teeth grazing over her lower lip and finding them to part, allowing the monk to deepen it further. Another shiver shook down her spine as she felt and heard the low groan from Atara muffled between their lips, feeling the hand on her shoulder tighten as the other continued to stay lost within her hair. Her mind took note and registered the reactions as she gently asserted her physical strength over the Warrior, even as she knew the submission was willing, she knew Atara’s strength after all, it was still a queue that sent a fire into her core she hadn’t ever felt before. Her fingers pressed to the scales at the back of Atara’s neck below the mane of maroon hair, keeping her from pulling back as her other hand caressed over the curve of hip to curl around and caress over the woman’s muscular bottom, fingertips finding and caressing the top of Atara’s tail, feeling the sharp ridge there before her thumb slid along the side of it to ghost over the underside of the appendage. 

Atara’s eyes flew open at the touch as heat rushed to her face, darkening her neck and cheeks as she pulled from the kiss with a startled gasp and powerful shudder that rocked through her shoulders, Yda’s eyes flashing open in surprise and some concern as she abruptly stilled, faces still so near each other she felt each breath of the words that came from the other woman. “Y-yda, that’s…” The monk felt the length of Atara’s tail tremble and shiver in echoes of the shuddering of her spine, realization lighting up the blue of her eyes as her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Ah ha, you’ve a trigger spot!” Yda triumphantly declared as she nipped softly at Atara’s lower lip, watching her expression and the reddening of her cheeks and neck as she slowly trailed her thumb along the underside of the au-ra’s tail so near to the base, feeling her thighs and bottom flex and tremble against her hand and lap. “Excellent.” She murmured as she nudged Atara’s chin up with her nose, her lips brushing over the front of her throat as she ducked her head down, listening to the quickening pace of the woman’s breath as her hands shakily ran through her hair and over her shoulders. Yda’s fingers stayed closed about the back of Atara’s neck, holding her still as the other hand wrapped about the base of her tail, fingernails grazing over the smooth scales there as she reveled in the trembles the touch sent through the woman in her lap. 

A little whimper came at the teasing from the monk as Yda’s lips moved down along her neck, her teeth worrying at her lower lip as she let her eyes close, back arching involuntarily towards the other woman as she instinctively raised her tail up to press against her back, exposing the sensitive underside of the thing to Yda’s strong hand. Her shoulders shifted, rolling some as she let her robe slide down her arms a bit as the other moved slowly further down with teeth and lips exploring the pattern of her scales. She let go of her hold on her lower lip with a deep moan as Yda bit down softly at the firmness of her collarbone, where the pattern of her scales seemed to point to the peak of her breastbone. Her shaking fingers stroked through Yda’s hair as the woman spent a bit of time marking the spot of skin with her own sort of darkness to counter the black of her scales, making a content sort of sound as she closed her eyes, inhaling Atara’s scent as the mage’s hand in her hair kept her held close to that arched back and exposed neck and shoulder. 

There were few things in life Yda was quite so sure of as she was sure in her desire for her friend and the desire to deepen that connection even further. Trusting in her own instincts and the signals from the other, she glanced up from where she teased at Atara’s shoulder to watch her face as her fingers rubbed firmly at the underside of the woman’s tail, a feeling of contentedness flowing through her like the trembles that constantly shook the mage. She kept her eyes raised to watch her face as fingers tightened behind her neck, keeping her close as she relented the attention to her tail, bringing it around instead to briefly rest against the white mage’s stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her quicker breaths, then seek to begin to coax her robe open. 

The press of strong hand against her neck kept her still, but as she felt Yda’s hand move from her tail to around her front, Atara opened her eyes and looked down to the blond woman, red eyes meeting blue as the two searched the other for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. The only discomfort Atara could find was the physical yearning for Yda that had her squeezing her thighs tightly against the side of the other womans, shifting her hips some as she squirmed a bit to better allow her robe to be parted open. Taking the wordless motion as permission, Yda’s lips smiled against Atara’s neck as her eyes shone with affection as she opened the sash enough to let the robe be loose to her hand, sliding it below the thick white fabric. 

Yda’s strong fingers found the heated skin below the robe and began to stroke and caress as they explored, sending further shivers through the other woman. She felt scars and markings, nudging aside the mental wish to map them out, putting that desire aside for another time. Scales only lightly marked along the sides of her torso, leaving her stomach bare for Yda’s fingers to explore along, feeling that rise and fall of breath and tremble of skin and muscles in the wake of her touch. She felt a shiver flow through her own shoulders as spine as she felt Atara tighten her hold on her, keeping her in close as her hand slid to press flat against her stomach with her fingertips at the peak of the soft mound above her core, closing her eyes as she slowly slid her hand down, fingertips sliding below the edge of Atara’s smallclothes. 

“Please, Yda...I want you..” Atara murmured softly into Yda’s hair, pressing her face down to the top of the other womans head as she felt Yda’s lips move again, caressing along her collarbone and then pressing to her breastbone as the mage’s robe fell open from one of the shudders that flowed down the au-ra’s back. She could feel the curl of the hyur’s lips against her skin as she heard the soft, muffled reply. “Good, cause I want you too..” 

Yda imagined she would forever remember the sound that came from Atara as her fingers slid down to the join of her legs, cupping over her heat between her spread thighs. She would always remember the sharp intake of breath felt against her hair that was then shaken slightly with the whimpered groan as Yda’s fingers gently eased closer to that damp heat, her careful control over her strength letting her touch be curious and gentle and almost ghosting as she slid the pad of a finger over the nub at Atara’s core to send a shock through the mage and a light jerk of her hips as her sign of victory. Her own eyes slid closed as she groaned against Atara’s shoulder at finding the slickness and heat, the sign of the mage’s earlier spoken desire, the knowledge that it was for her sending her mind reeling as her nails dug lightly into the back of her neck to either side of the scales that protected her spine. She pressed her forehead to Atara’s collarbone as she breathed into her hair, Yda focusing to control her breath and her movements as she began to probe and explore. 

Strong fingers slid smoothly into Atara’s tightness with the significant wetness of desire easing their passage, Yda’s palm pressed firmly to her clit as she cupped her core as Atara clung to her shoulders. Savoring the feeling of muscles squeezing around her fingers and the heat against her skin, Yda began to move her hand in a firm motion, rocking her fingers and palm against that sensitive nub while curling up into her depths in a smooth, rhythmic claiming motion as Yda leaned forward a bit, pressing Atara back against the front of the chair, pinning her there. Her arm flexed and strained lightly as she moved within the other woman, nearly pulling her fingers free before they dove in again, spreading them slightly to stretch Atara around her while her palm rubbed along the twitching, pulsing nub before her thumb flicked over the little peak. 

Atara began to rock her hips towards Yda’s hand, matching her pace the best she could as she knelt there, pressing down to the probing, thrusting fingers as her panting breath flowed into the blond hair she kept her face tightly to. Her good hand gripped down firmly on Yda’s shoulder while the other held the best it could, a soft, keening sort of sound dragged from her throat as she was pinned against the chair. To give in and let someone else be strong, to be touched so firmly, yet gently, a fire rose higher and higher in her gut as she reveled in the sensations. For that other to be Yda was something she never expected, but wholeheartedly grasped for, little whimpers and moans coming with greater frequency as she felt herself building and tightening towards a peak. 

Yda looked down between herself and Atara, eyes taking in the sight she could of the curve of Atara’s breasts cradled within her smallclothes, the glimpse of her stomach and the shaded triangle between her legs where her hand was largely hidden from sight. Her shoulders shook at the feel of the mage’s nails pressing through her blouse and into her skin as Atara clung to her, smiling with satisfaction at being able to get such pleasure from the other woman. She watched as the au-ra’s hips rocked against her hand, teasingly holding still for a moment until Atara’s whine of need reached her ears as she felt the woman’s sex cling and pulse some around her fingers. Driving them as deeply as she could, she curled them to press and drag against the top of her passage as she thrust again and again into her, thumb working firmly along her clit in a quest to bring her to a peak. Lifting her head some, she looked to Atara’s flushed face and smiled as she admired the breathless, open mouthed expression, gently nudging the woman’s face with her nose before she lifted her head fully to press once more into a demanding kiss, muffling the sounds her partner made.

Surprised at the claiming kiss, Atara moaned and whimpered muffled as she yielded herself fully to Yda, able to hold from the peak for only a bare moment more before she cried out against the other woman’s lips. Her sex clamped down on those thrusting fingers, gripping and pulling as if to keep her within her forever as her pearl pulsed and throbbed with her climax against Yda’s thumb and palm, a flush of warmth flowing to her hand as her body shook from the sensations shocking through her as her head dropped back against the seat of the chair. 

Yda let the kiss go as the mage’s head fell back, listening to Atara pant heavily in her ear as she trailed her lips down along the womans neck and shoulder again, tasting the salt of sweat and drawing in the scent of pleasure as she worked to calm her own breathing. Her hand held still within the other, savoring the heat and wetness and feeling the last pulses of climax jolt the mage, other hand rubbing her fingers into the muscles of her neck. She smiled, a shiver of pleasure of her own rocking her shoulders slightly, both women making a low sound of loss as Yda slowly pulled her hand from Atara’s core. Keeping her hand below the robes, she slid her damp hand along Atara’s side and around to the small of her back, feeling the base of her tail where it passed through her robes, gently petting along the ridge and leaving that sensitive underside alone for the moment. Occasional shivers continued to shake through Atara occasionally as she came down from her high, her hold weak and loose around Yda’s shoulders, finally lifting her head to nuzzle into warm blond hair as she pressed close. 

Words again seemed fairly useless to Yda’s mind as she tightened her hold on Atara, sliding her hand from her neck to hold her hip, the hand behind her back holding the au-ra close to her as she lifted her some in her hold as she moved to crouch, shhing the other as Atara made a curious sound and started to move in her hold, but she stopped when she was ‘sushed’. Yda smoothly shifted backwards, away from the chair and turned as she lay back, pulling Atara down with her onto the thick rug that was laid out in front of the fireplace before she gently rolled, ending with the both of them on their side, Atara’s back to the fire, each with their head pillowed on the others arm. Letting go of her grip on Yda’s hair, Atara slid her hand along the monk’s neck and gently down her shoulder, bringing it to rest against the bared valley of Yda’s cleavage, feeling her pulse below her palm. They seemed to come to a mutual, unspoken decision to do nothing more than enjoy the nearness, Atara letting her eyes slip closed as she leaned close to the protective, strong hold of Yda’s, the pair gradually slipping off to sleep in each others arms. 


	7. Yet Still Hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things take a long time to see the light of day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not explicit but NSFW

Atara decided she liked comparing Yda to a puppy, and her recent... enthusiasm the few days since they opened up to each other, begged the comparison of a pup with a new toy. However, -she- being the toy, Atara was learning about herself just as much as Yda was learning where her buttons were. The continued rains were a convenient excuse to not go out, the two not inclined to be very far from the other anyway. Yda did slip out for a while during one of the conjurer ‘check-ups’, returning with a full looking sack that Atara didn’t learn the contents of until later that evening in bed.

She’d have never suspected that someone could obtain that particular assortment of ‘toys’ in Gridania.

The mage was reminded of the night prior as soon as she woke up, going to lift her hand to brush her hair from her face and finding both hands moving at the same time, owing to the leather cuffs secured around her wrists and bound together in front of her. She felt warmth rise to her cheeks at the memory, shifting slightly under the covers. Yda shifted against her back as Atara moved some, rolling over to wrap her arm around the slightly shorter woman's waist, nuzzling up into the coils of Atara’s hair as she pressed in close. Both exhaled a content sigh, followed by soft giggles, first from Atara and then Yda. The blond rose up on her elbow as she peered over the other Scion’s shoulder, gently trailing her fingers along one of the more prominent scars on her stomach. “Want the cuffs off?” She asked, voice thick with sleep.

“No.” Came the quick answer from Atara, rolling her shoulders a little as she stretched some. “I was just thinking about last night…” 

Yda grinned as she leaned her head down to brush her lips over the teeth marks she had left on Atara’s shoulder the night before. “Happy thinking, I hope.” She bit back a laugh at the look red eyes shot over her shoulder. “Okay okay. Just remember you promised to tell me if you didn’t like something or if you were hurting or it felt bad, right?”

Rolling towards Yda some, Atara lifted her head to steal a quick kiss from the monk, making a point to lock eyes with her as she smiled gently. “I promise. Though remember I don’t mind the hurt sometimes!” She laughed as Yda shook her head a bit, glancing down at the hand that continued to trail along scarred skin. 

“I’ve only known you as a mage, you know, I’m not used to people like you taking hits!” Blue eyes turned to watch her hand, Yda humming gently as she worked her way up Atara’s form, gently touching to the scars along the way. “I didn’t know you trained as a paladin.” 

“I likely should have mentioned that before you saw my scars.” Atara smiled crookedly up to her lover. To say Yda was alarmed at the amount of scars crossing over the au-ra’s form would be an understatement. Though Yda had her share of them, her training allowed her to dodge and avoid most strikes.

“Any other hidden skills of yours I should know about?” Yda smiled, coaxing Atara to roll fully onto her back as she leaned half over the other woman, resting one leg over and between the others.

“What, you mean like your startling skill with rope and adult play toys?” Atara teased, laughing at the blush that flushed across Yda’s cheeks, the blond ducking her head to nuzzle at that bite mark again as Atara continued. “No, I’ve no real skills like that I think, I’m just sort of going by instinct here. If you mean -jobs-..” Her expression softened a bit as she lifted her still bound hands, looking to the scar on her left hand. She still couldn’t remember how the injury happened, but she remembered the consequences. “I was a dragoon, first.”

Hearing that sobering of tone, Yda lifted her head, gaze following Atara’s to the worst of her scars. “Really? Wow…” She let her gaze unfocus a bit as she pictured this in her mind, smiling a touch at the image drawn up. “Well no wonder you have such great legs and ass.” 

This time, Yda knew why Atara was laughing.

* * *

“So, what injured your hand anyway?” Yda asked as the pair walked along a forested path outside of the apartment, the rain having finally let up and the sun come out, coaxing the two to finally dress and leave for a while. They could hear the sound of a waterfall, and were on a quest to find it. 

Atara shrugged, leaning lightly against the hyurs side as she held onto Yda’s arm as they walked. “I honestly don’t remember. A lot is….jumbled.” 

Yda came to an abrupt stop, Atara giving her a puzzled look. “Wait, this isn’t part of the whole thing with your dizzy and passing out, is it? You didn’t mention memory loss!” She did her best to not panic, but held her breath until the au-ra shook her head, not noticing the length of time it took for the answer to be a bit longer than one might trust. 

“No no, I haven’t...well it’s been a while.” Atara tugged at Yda’s arm as she looked forward and tried to get the other woman to walk again. Behind her unseen, her tailtip flicked frantically side to side for a moment as she tried to make the lie believable. 

Moving in step with Atara again, Yda gave her a glance, her own pause perhaps too long to let her silence truthfully show acceptance. “You’ve not gotten dizzy for a bit, what, two days?”

“Right.” Atara quickly answered, straightening her shoulders a little. “I’m going to give it a week, but I think I’m alright, now.” 

The soft sigh from Yda was genuine relief. “Good.” The pair walked in silence for a bit, comfortable in each others presence. Yda smiled as they came into a clearing, the sought after waterfall coming into view as it spilled over a ledge and into a small pond. “So you stopped being a dragoon after you got hurt, then? Then you learned to be a paladin?” Her curiosity steered the subject back around to the start.

Atara smiled gently, both at the sight of the clearing and Yda’s curiosity, gladly letting the other subject go. She couldn’t remember details, but she knew some things were simply fact. “Yes. I came to Ul’dah first and learned gladiatorial arts, and I’m one of the first ‘free paladins’ the Sultansworn trained. The spirits guided me to Gridana, however, and I sort of found conjury along the way here. I’ve wandered about Eorza since about a year after the calamity? Dalamud’s fall was what made the spirits tell me to leave my clan.” 

Yda carefully filed away the details she was told, each bit something she felt she very badly wanted to remember. She had talked at length about herself the other night after some play, Atara having made a joke about being a captive audience for Yda to babble, as she had been tied to the bed at that point. Though she had been quite open, she knew inside she was lying by omission, and though she was also fairly sure Atara hadn’t answered her other question truthfully, it was because of herself still holding back the truth that she didn’t probe. She led the way over to a spot below a tree that was closer to the pond, sitting down and pulling Atara into her lap before the other could protest. “I was going to ask if you always do what the spirits say, but I think I know the answer.” 

Atara reached up to wrap her arms gently around Yda’s shoulders as she smiled. “If that answer is yes, well...you’re actually wrong!”

“What, really?” Blue eyes blinked in surprise.

Red eyes shined as she laughed. “Yes. We’re tested sometimes, you see. The spirits want us to be willing servants, not mindless drones. It gives more worth to our actions to want to do what they ask, so now and again they’ll ask something that at first glance seems reasonable, but only with some thought does one realize it’s not a good thing. A Mol who fails is often not spoken to much beyond the simple task of what to hunt that day.” Atara explained as she leaned to rest her cheek to Yda’s shoulder, eyes turning to watch the water. 

“Oh, well, that’s good. I’d really not like if they told you to jump off a cliff or something.” Yda noted, her arms settling around Atara’s waist, smiling gently as Atara giggled.

“We’re warned about that particular request as soon as we start sensing the spirits.” Atara replied, lightly playing her fingers through Yda’s hair. Though the monk had insisted on the mask and her turban upon going out, she left her hair long for the time being, and the au ra accepted that as enough. The two women sat in silence, Atara eventually leaning her head to Yda’s shoulder, her arms relaxing as she gradually slipped off to sleep. 

Ever so carefully, Yda shifted the woman in her hold until she was laying in her arms a bit better and less likely to cut off circulation to an arm draped over a shoulder. She found Atara to be a fairly sound sleeper when it came to movement, but she’d snap awake at the first strange sound, possibly because of how it was that au ra actually heard things. She smiled to herself, leaning her head back against the tree. 

Not for the first time, she started to wonder some about what she was going to tell Papalymo. There was no avoiding that subject, since she knew he’d figure it out the first time she tried to sneak off to be with the other Scion. He was, afterall, her greatest ally and friend, she owed it to him to be truthful. He had always tried to tell her to avoid such ‘entanglements’, as he called relationships, and she had, for the most part. Anyone not within the Scions was as far as she was concerned, entirely off limits. But of all those who had come and gone in the organization, only Atara had managed to catch her eye, and not because of her exotic origins. Why, though, outside from her visual attraction, was something Yda wasn’t entirely understanding of, and she wanted to be sure before she spoke with the mage.

‘A week, huh?’ She thought to herself, reaching a hand up to softly stroke the back of her hand along Atara’s cheek. ‘I’ve got a week, but I don’t think that’ll be enough to understand. I wish…’ mentally she paused, lifting her eyes to look at the water again. ‘...I wish -she- were here.’

Tears shone in the eyes behind the mask, Yda turning her face away to wipe her cheek on her shoulder before they’d be noticeable. It ached and she still missed her, so badly, and she wanted to talk to Atara about it, but she couldn’t, she knew she couldn’t, she promised Papalymo she wouldn’t. Someday, maybe, he would let her. But until then, it was just one more thing to keep behind her eyes. 

She gently trailed her finger along the patch of scales on Atara’s forehead, fingertips following the red tattooing that marked over her eyes. ‘What’s still behind here, I wonder? Will you tell me someday?’ Yda quietly thought, a light smile on her lips. ‘But, I don’t think it matters, if you never do. It’s different, you and me. I guess some things in life you just -know-.’ She blinked, and bit her lower lip to hold back a laugh at herself. ‘That sounded positively wise of me!’ A wide smile broke out on her features, and with a happy sigh, she leaned her head back again, letting her thoughts fall silent as she let herself likewise drift off to sleep, warm and content below the boughs. 


	8. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grasping at the moments they can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SFW chapter

Yda couldn’t easily recall a time she was so content and happy, certainly not within the last five years. Though she was still concerned for Atara’s health, her close eye on the woman gradually soothed her worries that the fatigue and disorientation had passed for the most part. Now and again she would catch the au ra sitting with eyes closed and furrowed brow, but she would always get a smile from the other woman when those red eyes opened and met her gaze. 

Papalymo’s unannounced return to Gridania resulted in his catching the pair in a _compromising_ position, though after Atara stopped laughing and Yda managed to find her voice again, he was all to happy to brush it off and assure them of his ability to keep a secret. He did agree that they should keep things relatively quiet, however, and so it became a shared secret between the three. Upon reflection, Yda appreciated not having to find the way to tell the lalafell in private, and his knowledge of the situation let her relax and bring down some of those barriers and walls she so often kept up for protection. She noted Atara doing something similar, the woman more willing to smile or speak in contrast to how she’d often be so silent and observant when among the other Scions. Papalymo noticed this as well, it seemed, the two getting into detailed conversations about Atara’s people and the lands she traveled.

The two were mid conversation about the Mol Xaela tribe as Yda returned from getting the trio dinner from the Canopy, Papalymo’s voice that curious, questioning tone she was so used to as he was mulling over new information. “So, you actually hear voices of these spirits? Are they like the Elementals?”

Atara smiled up to Yda as the woman came over and handed her a box after setting another next to the black mage, the monk smoothly sitting down next to Atara as the woman curled her tail around Yda’s waist. She nodded to Papalymo, but then waggled a hand in the air. “I do, but I wouldn’t compare them to the Elementals. The Elementals to me are more like the Kami….my spirits are the ancestors tasked with guiding us by the Elder Gods of my people. Hearers have to translate what the Elementals say, when the spirits speak to us we ‘feel’ it from most. The intention is clear, if not the word.” She made a little purring sound, rougher than that miqo'te would make, as she opened the box to one of the prized eel pies. 

“Ah, I see. Yes, the Elementals are a greater puzzle to ascertain their intentions from, save the Great One when he speaks more directly to Kan-E-Senna.” Papalymo took a moment to open his own lunch and take a drink. “Thank you, Yda.”

“You’re welcome.” Yda muffledly replied around a bite of food, ignoring the look he gave her for her bad manners, smiling as she felt Atara’s tail lightly tap her hip.

Atara chuckled at the exchange, the sound of it and her laughter one that Yda cherished whenever she heard it, it as rare to hear as her voice when in the Scion headquarters. “I do not say this out of pride, but I was in line to be the next Shaman of our little wandering clan until I was told to come to Eorzia.”

Papalymo tilted his head curiously. “Shaman?”

“Aye, the title given those who hear the spirits most clearly. I speak to elder spirits, stronger voices that I hear as clearly as you speaking to me.” Atara explained. “The Shaman is the one who determines the movements of the tribe as a whole.”

“Do you see them?” Yda asked curiously as Papalymo made mental note of the information. “Sometimes you seem to look off at nothing now and then.”

Atara’s cheeks colored a touch at the realization that Yda had noticed her occasional sidelong glances. She shook her head. “No, but I do hear where they ‘are’...” She gestures to her horns a bit. “My hearing is about as good as yours, Yda, but we au ra have exceptional spacial awareness. I can close my eyes and tell where you are from the sound with pretty good accuracy. So when I do those glances I’m looking towards where I hear the spirit, but as of yet, I’ve not actually _seen_ them.”

“I would wonder if that was disorienting, but you say you’ve heard them for a long time, so I imagine it is normal, yes?” Papalymo asked, Atara nodding.

“We speak of them often enough as a clan that when a Mol hears them for the first time it is a joy and not a scare or shock. For most, there is generally one or two that they will hear for the rest of their lives, specific voices that stay with them through their life. For me, I have one voice who is with me always, the others are those of the area who realize I can hear them and commune first with my main guide, then speak to me as well.” Atara lightly pokes at her food as she looks down at it thoughtfully. “They’re why I don’t particularly like to teleport. I know some others don’t like the feel of the teleportation, but for me it’s always a few minutes before the spirit returns to me.”

“So while you can’t see them, they _are_ present and needs must travel to catch up to you. Interesting.” Papalymo muses, pulling out a small notebook and jotting down a few notes. “Thank you for sharing with me, Atara. From what you say there is so much to learn.”

“I wonder if we’ll ever get to see your homeland someday.” Yda muses, finishing her food and setting the box aside, stretching her arms up over her head as she arches her back a bit.

Atara finds herself a bit distracted as she watches the stretch, then smiles at Papalymo. “And that’s just my tribe and clan. There are many more within the Xaela, those who rise and fall, more forgotten than known.” A moment's pause before she laughs lightly. “Well, the spirits don’t forget, yes.”

“Well, you will have to give me the short version, sometime.” Papalymo smiled as he finished his food, making a sound as his tankard was emptied and he hopped down off the chair. “I must take my leave, however, today I meet with some scouts who’ve been gathering recent updates on the Ixal.”

Yda made an uncomfortable sound. “They’re not trying to summon Garuda again, are they? We... _Atara_...can’t fight her again yet.” She pointedly ignored the sharp glance from the woman at her side, though did take note that Atara didn’t exactly protest her claim.

Papalymo shook his head. “No, no, worry not. This is simply to determine what they’ve been doing since the second summoning, the Wailers seem to have had success halting their collection of crystals of late.” 

“Mmf, good.” Yda settled into eating again as Atara looked to the lalafell with a smile, nodding to him as he departed. Her brow furrowed in thought then, as she looked down into her mug, the monk next to her making a curious sound. “You alright, Atara?”

It took a few moments for the woman to answer, a small stone lodging itself in Yda’s stomach as a touch of worry grew. “I’m alright. I think I’d like to go to Gridania and check the stalls..” She seemed to be making a mental list. 

Finishing her food, Yda gathered the boxes and moved to place them in the kitchen area. “Oh? I can always go get you something, but a walk might be nice I guess?” She tried to ferret out the worry in her thoughts, to determine what was the source. 

“Mm, no, you can’t really get this for me, I will need adjustments made.” Atara looked over to her partner, the woman she had come to find herself rapidly falling deeply in love with. “Yda...you do realize that I... _we’re_...going to have to get back to the business of keeping the realm safe soon, right?” 

The blond woman briefly closed her eyes. There it was. The unspoken fear laid bare. She sighed as she turned and walked back over to her lover, looking down to her for a long, steady moment, smiling lightly. “Would you forgive me if I daydreamed otherwise?” She murmured, holding her hands out. 

“Only if you do likewise.” Atara smiled wistfully back, reaching up to take Yda’s hands and tug lightly on them, coaxing the hyur back down to the rug with her. Once she was seated again, Atara moved to situate herself in her lap, wrapping her arms around the strong woman’s shoulders. “Our lives as Scions will forever remain fraught with danger, but, for moments of respite we have each other now, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.”

“Even if we do have to keep it quiet.” Yda leaned in as Atara settled, loosely looping her arms around the smaller womans waist, nuzzling her cheek to her before she brushed her lips along the curve of her neck, teeth grazing over black scale. Atara closed her eyes, drawing in a slow, deep breath as she tilted her chin back. 

“Tis easier that Papalymo knows, spirits know you wouldn’t have been able to keep a secret from him.” She teased, laughing softly with a small squeak as Yda nipped at her shoulder, then leaned back to pout at her.

“Ooh, it’s true but it’s still mean of you to point it out!” Yda wrinkled her nose as the other woman giggled softly, leaning in to press her lips to that scrunched up tip. The brief flash of the tip of her tongue stuck out at the au ra, but then she smiled, one hand gently roaming over her companion’s back. “So what is it that you need to get fitted? New robes?”

Atara slightly shook her head before she faintly bit her lower lip with a fang, glancing aside a moment before she looked back to those blue eyes she found so beautiful and entrancing. “No, I...was thinking to take up the shield and sword, again. I feel that if I’m going to be putting myself in danger I’d be better prepared with sturdier armor again, and should I needs beg the assistance of others, that it only right that I take the brunt of the focus rather than those who assist me.” 

The rock inside her stomach grew to a small boulder as Atara spoke, Yda closing her eyes and leaning her head forward a bit. She tilted her head some towards Atara’s scarred hand as it began to stroke gently over her hair, the two sitting in silence as Atara let Yda process her intention. Finally, there was a soft sigh from the other again. “It only makes sense, what you say. And you would be better protected, though your scars sure don’t suggest that you do your best to avoid obtaining them, you know!” She glanced up at the woman in her lap, not lifting her head.

The dark haired woman smiled gently back to her, continuing to run faintly trembling fingers through blond strands. “Blame it on my ancestry, I suppose. I may be Mol, one of the more…’peaceful’ of the Xaela, but I am Xaela nonetheless. Finding this conjury pathway has given me strength in magics and a strong grounding here in Gridania, but the spirits, they bade me protect myself, and I’ve no reason to disagree.” 

“I look forward to when they tell you to make me settle down in a nice house somewhere once we’re finally able to stop doing all this Scion stuff.” Yda turned her head, kissing Atara’s scarred palm, nuzzling to it as the woman softly cupped her face and stroked her thumb over her nose and chin. 

Atara laughed. “A Mol, settle down in a house that can’t be picked up and moved at a moments notice? That’d be quite an order from the spirits indeed!” 

Yda smiled, leaning in again to resume her lipping and biting at the side of her lovers neck. “Leave me my daydreams.” She murmured against skin and scale scented faintly of the earth and trees. 

Red eyes closed as Atara smiled softly, leaning her head back and chin up to expose her neck to those exploring lips, her voice low as she ran her hand through Yda’s hair to rest on her shoulder. “Yes, m’love.” 

Yda’s hands tightened their hold on Atara’s robe as she leaned more into her, closing her eyes as she gently nipped and kissed her way down the feel of Atara’s pulse, starting to tug insistently at the loose mage robe. “We’ll get you your armor tomorrow, I want an easy to remove robe tonight.” She declared, a strong shiver flowing down the au ra woman’s spine as she silently nodded in agreement, the two yielding to the continued silence, peace, and desire.


	9. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little is ever gone for good in Eorzea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SFW

Atara stretched her arms up over her head and smiled at the clanking of metal and sound of it against leather underclothes. It felt good to be armored again. The familiar weight of pauldrons resting on her shoulder, the firm support of the chest piece. Gridanian armor always felt good to her, designed with a bit more emphasis on movement than what one would get in Ul’dah, but still affording significant protection. A nation known for its archers and lancers also knew how to protect against such weaponry. And with the alliance refounded after her foray into the Black Wolf’s den, she was able to find a rather sturdy shield thanks to the flush of travelers, adventurers and trade that was happening even as the beast tribes hounded the three states. 

It took a few days to get the armor properly fitted, but now that she was set up again, the conjurer turned paladin had made her way to one of the little training grounds in the Lavender Beds near the apartment they were in. Putting the gear back on alone was plenty to shift her mind to her more marital training, but she knew she aught to take a few swings at a training dummy to get the muscle memory flowing again. The shield fit nicely on her arm, her weakened hand still able to grip it well enough, no need for the finesse she’d otherwise be expected to have were she still a practicing dragoon. She looked down at the sword in her hand, flexing her gauntlet as she lifted it to look at the hilt and the twin serpent motif, smiling. Once the commander of the grand company had gotten wind of her focus shift from mage to fighter, he had the sword sent to their apartment. ‘I guess being a sergeant has its perks.’ She thought to herself, drawing in a slow breath as she turned towards the training dummy and settled into a stance.

Papalymo and Yda watched the au ra from a distance, the pair returning from a visit with the padjals and Elder Seedseer and spying the activity at the training ground. Yda had made motion to join her lover, but Papalymo held his staff lightly in front of her to stay her. 

“Yda, wait. Allow me this moment to judge if our companion is as hale as she says she is. If we’re to ask her to do what the Seedseer bade, it best to know she is well, yes?” Papalymo smiled lightly as Yda chuffed in that way she would when she knew he was right. 

“Fine. I suppose that only makes sense, especially since I can’t…” Yda sighed, the monk flumping down to the ground bonelessly. “Papalymo. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Hmm?” He quietly queried, leaning on his staff as he watched the woman attacking the training dummy. He knew what Yda was thinking, but wanted her to voice it herself.

Yda gestured forward towards Atara. “Love. Not like this. Love of country, love of family, love of friends..” She elbowed him as she said that. “Those I understand...but this sort of love, love of another whos none of those other things anymore...it went from companion to lover so fast.” 

The lalafell glanced sidelong at Yda, a brow arching. “Do you regret it?”

“NO.” Yda almost yelled in instant reply. Her cheeks flushed lightly as she shook her head, softening her tone. “No, I don’t. I haven’t felt as happy as I have these two weeks in forever. But where before I had so much...confidence in her ability, now I’m terrified she’ll break.” She looked towards Atara in the distance, teeth worrying at her lip some as she watched. 

“I do believe that is a normal part of that sort of love.” Papalymo smiled to himself as he turned his eyes back. He knew someday that someone would finally catch the eye of the flighty blond, but was still surprised at who exactly it was.

Yda sighed, then paused, then perked up. “Well, it just means we have to solve all this primal business and make the realm safe so the Scions don’t have to work anymore.” She gave Papalymo a grin as she met his look, the two laughing after. “Ah, another thing to daydream on.”

“Like you need anything else to let your mind float off topic.” The mage tapped her shoulder with his staff as he started to walk towards where Atara was. “I’m satisfied she is well, come, let us go relay Urianger’s petition.”

“Feh.” Yda replied, then hopped to her feet, stretching her arms up over her head as she trailed after her partner.

* * *

“So...this is a primal but..not a primal?” Atara eyed the paper she had been given after the trio had made their way back to the apartment, the au ra setting her armor on its stand, leaving the sword at her hip but shield set aside. 

“I know, right? We’re just finding all sorts of new ways to describe what they are these days. First Good King Moggle Mog, and now this Odin business.” Yda pouted as she went about digging in the chill chest to then hand a bottle of water to Atara, who gave her a grateful smile, the paladin sweaty after her practice. “At least we knew the Mooglesguard were the ones responsible before, this thing just  _ showed up _ . How rude.”

“Indeed. The padjals are uncertain to nigh everything relating to this Dark Divinity, as they have taken to calling it. As such they have reached out to the Scions, and somewhat more specifically, you, Atara. Urianger is unable to find much on the subject himself, however, but agrees that you are best suited for the job at the moment.” Papalymo settled on a stool with a light sigh. “It would be too much to hope to have a simple cut and dry answer these days.”

“Mmm.” Atara replied thoughtfully, picking up the report that had been put together thus far and looking it over again. “A dark figure on a horse with a large sword. A non typical warrior sort, for the Twelveswood.” She smiled. “Good thing we Xaela have experience both on horseback and dealing with others on horseback.”

“I thought you never fought in that big battle thing.” Yda questioned as she sat as well, looking to the still standing woman.

“I haven’t personally, but preparation for it is still a normal part of marital training.” 

“Well that is good, as those of this realm are unlike to ride such steeds. May I suggest you reach out to those you would trust at your side? Even though you seem well, Yda wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if you went alone to confront this being.” Papalymo quietly noted, Yda agreeing.

The paladin smiled as she carefully sat, getting used to the combination of tail and sword again. “I was already making a mental list of who to reach out to, don’t worry.”

“I’m fairly well going to always worry now.” Yda commented, looking sidelong to the au ra. She noted the tension that settled at the corner of Atara’s eyes as she didn’t look back to her. Reaching out, Yda lightly stroked the back of her fingers over Atara’s cheek. “But, I trust you, Atara. I know your strength.” 

Those last words drew red eyes to turn towards the monk, Atara smiling lightly as she leaned into the touch. “Thank you. I worry for you, too, but you too are strong…” She paused, then grinned. “And you have Papalymo to drag you out of the fire.”

“Ah ha!” Papalymo laughed. “Someone understands, now!”

Atara laughed and sheltered under her arm as Yda picked up a pillow to hit her with. “You both act like I didn’t do just fine on my own until I met Papalymo!” She protested, but was unable to hide her smile at hearing the laughter from two of those most dear to her. After making sure the au ra was good and thwapped, she lightly tossed the pillow aside as she flopped backwards, draping her arm over her eyes as she lay half on the couch. 

“Somedays I wonder.” Papalymo dryly commented, smoothly ducking the thrown pillow. Atara smiled as she let the two of them start to babble to each other, her focus turning to the report once again. 

The spirits buzzed in the back of Atara’s mind as she processed her newest assignment. Something about the description of the warrior called Odin had her guide intrigued,and she felt it reaching out to local spirits questioningly. She took note of this as unusual, rarely did her elder spirit get curious of something, leaving the mystery solving to her most of the time. Until she faced this ‘primal’ herself, though, she suspected answers would be few and far between, even for the spirits.

* * *

The battle against the dark horseman was not quite as she expected it to go. Atara couldn’t help but think of two rutting rams, locked horn to horn in combat, straining against the other until one gave out in weakness. Again and again she withstood the blows from the massive sword, deflecting or bearing them while the others struck out at horse and rider. Her blood sang with joy at having taken up the sword again, the white of her paladin magics flashing in the dark of the clearing they had finally cornered Odin in. 

The being certainly dissipated like a Primal upon defeat, the aether scattering into the sky, at least, for the most part. The massive black sword jutted from the ground, glistening with some of the au ra’s own blood as it marked the spot where Odin fell. She glanced off to the side, nodding once to Brother E-Sumi-Yan as she met the padjal’s eyes, the two having observed the battle to try to gain some knowledge about how it was that the being worked. The healers she recruited went about tending to minor wounds, Atara closing her eyes as she felt the cool wash of conjurery flow over her, taking away most of the minor wounds and the edge off those she’d need someone else to look at. 

Nothing else needed, she nodded to the assembled friends, fellow Scions and Echo gifted alike, and gestured for them to feel free to go as she sheathed her sword and walked over to join the approaching padjal’s. She didn’t pay their conversation much mind as she watched the Wailers and Gods Quiver move about, one of the Quiver taking up the massive sword and starting to head for Gridania. Her mind was distracted by the veritable crowd of spirits that moved about the clearing, trying to make sense of what she was picking up, her brow furrowed. 

There were exceptionally old spirits about, Elementals and otherwise. She couldn’t understand the Elementals, beyond knowing they were generally pleased at her presence due to her skill as a conjurer. The others spoke in languages unknown, and her elder spirit was growing frustrated, though it had no such language barrier. Her shoulders shifted as the growing sense of the battle not truly being over began to itch it’s way up her spine as she rested her hand on her sword hilt, eyes glancing around the clearing. 

The Bowlord came running into the clearing and up to the padjals, the small group talking animatedly. Abruptly, the spirits and Elementals fell silent, forcing Atara to pay attention to their conversation, picking up that the Bowlord was saying that the man who was charged with taking the sword to Stillglade Fane, had instead absconded with the blade and was not yet found. The padjals expressed their surprise as Atara got an overwhelming sense of ‘told you so’ coming from the spirits she couldn’t initially understand. An unease settled on those gathered and on the spirits as well, but she couldn’t help but smile lightly to herself as she turned away after assuring the padjal she would be there to assist should they need. 

She found herself hoping they would. 


	10. Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fires of emotion

The second fight with Odin was far more brutal than the last. And spirits help her, she  _ enjoyed _ it, and could not make the feral grin leave her face. The first time a strike landed that caused her to taste blood, she felt a fire light inside of her that spread through her core and out to her limbs, vibrating through her blood. The fight dragged on, the sky opening and rain soaking the already muddy battleground as lightning crashed across the sky as if Ramuh himself were there to witness the struggle. Though it had initially gone similar to the first encounter, a change visibly overcame the Primal, and soon his blows had struck down some of those she counted on to damage Odin, leaving them on the edges of the battlefield. One of the two healers who had come along was nearing the end of her threads as she healed those on the sidelines, while the other was doing his best to keep Atara from falling over, herself. 

Each time she felt the warm touch of this particular healer’s aether flow over a wound to seal it, she felt the fire stoked as if by a breeze. She thought that it must have been frustrating to the Primal, as well, something about the angle and sting of his strikes made her feel as if her unyielding was something to anger it. She glanced sidelong at the horse as it reared up, her knowledge of the style of fighting letting her quickly dance to the side before a hoof struck out. 

She couldn't help it. She laughed. 

The Primal looked directly at her at the sound, the horse rearing into the air again as its rider drew the sword close to it’s chest, beginning to cast a spell. Atara gave out a yell. “It wavers and calls upon desperation! Everyone, with all you have!”

The air was set aglow with the flows of aether as the assembled group rallied to her call. Even those on the sidelines found the strength to stand, weapons drawn and spells begun. Atara kept her focus on Odin’s helm, trying to peer through the slots, to see the face beneath. She heard a familiar command as several of those whose task was to damage were joining their spells together in their own final burst of an attack, the paladin bracing herself behind her shield as she readied to take whatever it was Odin was preparing, should they not get the cast off in time. 

The Primal gave her a single, respectful nod. 

The air thundered with the spell that crashed down on the dark figure, illuminating it starkly against the dark forest, a flash of light rising into the sky some distance. She clenched her eyes closed, teeth bared as she braced against the wave of aether that flowed out from the strike, scattering the Primals essence back into the land. She opened her eyes again as she heard the sword fall to jut up out of the ground, holding herself ready as silence fell. 

Upon realizing their success, her comrades burst out into cheers and shouts of triumph, hugs and clapping. The large rog who had been healing her came up behind her and clasped a hand nearly as large as her head on her shoulder, she looking sidelong up to him from the corner of her eye. The Hellsguard gave her a wink, his voice a low rumble. “Enjoyed that, did ye?”

She snorted a soft laugh and smiled, her cheeks darkening a little as she turned her eyes to watch to be sure the others of her group were able to safely start their way to the nearby town. “Noticed that, huh?”

He shrugged a little and lightly rapped his knuckles on top of her head, getting a light grunt in reply. “Im’ma Hellsguard, sweets, I know those looks an’ laughs. ‘S nothin to be shamed o’.” He sent a soft, low level cure washing down over her from his hand, warming the rain water that continued to flow down her as well. “Who’m I t’ try t’ deny the wee scaley ball o’ fury ‘er enjoyment? Y’ were t’ firs’ one t’ not give me funny looks when y’ been learnin’ ‘bout me castin’ the heals.” 

“Thank you, my friend. Are you alright to head to the Float on your own?” She looked about, only the Wailers and Quiver who came to guard the sword until the padjals arrived, now that they knew the method of rebirth for the Primal. The big man nodded, softly patting her shoulder before he turned and walked off, using his staff as a proper walking aid, leaving her as the only one of those who assembled to fight Odin left.

She lingered as the rain let up, the clouds breaking apart to show the evening sky.

She watched over the Wood Wailers and God’s Quiver as they hovered around the two padjals, as they carefully trod amid the torn up landscape, the patches of scorched ground, the places where blood was spilled. 

The spirits were silent but one, her guide, who told her to be still. And so, she was.

Soon, the Gridanians all departed, the sound of the soft buzz of wings settling above the trickling sounds of nearby flowing water. Darkness crept into the forest before the sun set as shadows grew long, then further still as it sank below the horizon. The silence was all encompassing, no spirits speaking, life muted. 

Twin sparks lit in the darkness, two embers of flame, distant, but approaching. A steady sound accompanied them, growing louder, each soft thud like the somber beating of a drum. She watched, and waited. 

Nearer the twin lights came, louder the beat against the forest floor. Instinct knew the beat before her eyes focused on the looming figure that came towards her. 

It was the horse of Odin.  _ ‘Selphnir’,  _ her guide spoke. She nodded slightly in acknowledgement. 

The massive horse came to a stop in front of her, turning his flank towards her before it’s head turned, the twin lights of his glowing eyes fixing on her own red. She met his gaze for a bit, then began to look the beast over, her head just at the top of Selphnirs shoulder. The armor it wore was the same black as it’s coat, it almost difficult to tell where the armor stopped and the horse began, save for the soft glint of light off the armored pieces. Now that it wasn’t attempting to trample her, she was able to tell that the great horses tail and mane were of a soft orange that her mind likened to the fading glow of a dying ember over the charred black of the burned fuel. 

Slowly, she reached her hand, palm up, towards Selphnirs muzzle, smiling lightly as she felt the warm softness of the nosetip press into her hand, though she was surprised that under all the darkness, it seemed mostly just a horse. “A bit like how Eorzeans sometimes mistake my dark scales for something else, I suppose.” She murmured at the thought, the horse snorting softly and nodding his head like it understood, and she decided to go along with the assumption that he did. A spirit this powerful likely did. Running her thumb over the soft muzzle, she then shifted to stroke her hand along his neck, slowly moving down along his side as she took him in.

Her tribe wasn’t the most attached to horses, of those on the Steppe. But the Mol still used them as all tribes did, and her little traveling group still had several, so she knew what she was looking at. Everything about the horse was perfection, in terms of muscle and proportion. Though his coat was still a solid black, her fingers found places where scars were hidden, and she felt a small pang of guilt. “I hope these didn’t hurt you.” She murmured again, the skin on his shoulder shuddering a little as if some sort of horse shrug. 

“Shall we travel together, Selphnir? Though we may wish to not, here in the Twelveswood. Though it seems the Elementals and spirits have no issue with you, the citizenry may not react so well.” Selphnir tossed his head a bit and she couldn’t help but laugh lightly. She felt the weight of something settle in one of the pouches at her waist, brow arching as she looked down, reaching to her pouch.

She pulled out a small hunting horn, unable to tell what it was made from. It was as black as her own scales and the horse in front of her, and felt almost cold in her hand. Selphnir nosed at it, and she got the sense that it was what she would need to call him. She smiled as her fingers curled around the horn and held it close to herself for a moment before returning it to the pouch. “Understood. I will call you when I can.”

Selphnir snorted lightly and flicked one of his ears, then nudged his muzzle against her shoulder before he began to idly wander off. She marveled at how...normal, the great beast was as he lowered his head and started to browse at the undergrowth. She watched for a bit, then turned and started to walk to the Float herself, brow furrowed in thought.

Being in possession of an item to summon what was the mount of a Primal was not something she expected to happen after taking Odin down. It was one of the first times that she had gotten a ‘reward’ for doing what she felt was her duty, and she wasn’t sure quite what she felt about it. Should she tell Brother E-Sumi-Yan? They were certain the sword was what created Odin, and all others after. Why did Selphnir still exist, if the dark rider was struck down? Was it another vessel for creating another Odin? But with her being Blessed with the Echo, she didn’t need to worry about that in particular.

“I suppose that’s why.” She softly commented to herself as she walked down to the somewhat odd little settlement perched on the water and it’s edge, the last Gridanian settlement between it and Coerthas. She could hear the celebration in the inn before she could see it, smiling to herself that her friends had a reason to celebrate. She paused at the entry to the path that lead there, considering if she should join. Her hand rested on the pouch that now hung heavy with the gifted horn, and after some thought, shook her head and kept going. There was a different sort of desire than drinking and celebrating growing in her tonight. 

It took her awhile to make her way through Falloguard and past the last sentry tower, the night heavy by the time she felt the tower safely far enough behind that she’d not draw any concern. Regardless, she stepped off the path and walked a short distance away, around a large boulder to hide from sight. Reaching for the horn, she held it in her hand again, looking it over in the moonlight. A dark metal, burnished silver by her guess, formed the mouthpiece and almost perfectly blended in with the rest of the object, which she was fairly certain was a piece of dragon horn. ‘Best not let the Ishgardians see this either, but, at least I can ride him around Coerthas.’ Her thoughts trailed along. Lifting it to her lips, she drew in a breath, and then blew.

The sound was low and mournful, resonating in her own horns and vibrating her skull some as she made a slight face at the sensation. The area around her fell silent, and she smiled at hearing the rapid hoofbeats approaching. Selphnir trotted up in front of her, pawing at the ground as he tossed his head, waiting. Stretching her hand out, she stroked it along his neck as she walked around his side, reaching up for the saddle pommel and smoothly hoisting herself up without aid of the stirrups. The leather of the seat creaked softly as she settled, and she tilted her head slightly as she glanced down. It sat her perfectly, which was initially surprising, considering the size of the former occupant. Then the realization hit her that the stirrups were now gone, which she didn't mind because she didn’t need them, but it made her recognize that Selphnir was adjusting to  _ her _ . His new rider. 

She couldn’t help it. She laughed.

Eschewing the reigns, those fading away at her choice, she gently grasped a handful of mane, leaning over the horses’ neck to stroke her hand along him again, speaking low. “Wonderful...lets run and be free, shall we?” He snorted in agreement, and she smiled, turning him towards Coerthas and the eventual road back to Mor Dhona. She drew in a breath of the scent of horse, Selphnirs scent tinged with an edge of metal and 'cold', but he was warm below her touch. It took no urging on her part other than the will to go, and she felt the surge of powerful muscles below her as the black steed leapt forward, hooves churning up the ground during the initial burst of motion, quickly reaching a speed that left her hair flowing behind her as she crouched low over his neck. 

Like the feelings of joy that spread through her from the heat of battle, a similar sensation crept from where her hands pressed against the horse and through her whole body. Her elder spirit sang with joy at finally getting a taste of her xaela heritage from riding on her new companion, a sensation that she simply couldn’t get on the back of a chocobo. Her mind soaked in the feelings, the emotions, the joys of the day and the past weeks. The joy of a horse. The joy of battle. The joy of finding a partner and love. She knew at the end of the journey lay another mission, another attempt to bring permanent peace to Eorzea, but for now, high on her jet black horse, she was free.


	11. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best lessons have 'impact'.

The next month or so was uneventful, when it came to the things she was tasked with doing. Officially moved to Mor Dhona, the Scions were happy to see a growth in their numbers alongside the growth of the frontier village itself. The Senior Archons had tasked her and others with strengthening the ties to the neighbors in the region, and she was largely assigned to the region of Coerthas and Gridania. Gridania she was more than happy to traverse, but though she minded not the cold and the snow, it was more the occupants of this part of Coerthas she was less than thrilled to deal with. 

The au ra was well aware that a good part of the intention of sending the paladin into the snow was not only to foster trade and good relations, but to teach the people of the region that her kind were  _ not _ Dravanians or heretics. The  Observatorium  was largely ambivalent to her presence, more concerned with looking up than down, and the knights there simply passing her off as one of those adventurers to be ignored, or at least seeming to. Only the merchants spoke to her, the knights didn’t really speak to her as she traveled, but she felt their eyes on her the entire time. Since trade with Whitebrim Front was largely out of the question, the main pathway there beset with giants, focus was instead on Camp Dragonhead and the lochs between it and the Observatorium, Mor Dhona already having a fairly friendly relationship with the Ishgardian outpost. 

She pointedly chose to ride Selphnir there, making herself look larger than she was, and letting the black stand out against the white of the snow so they would see her coming and couldn’t logically accuse her of being sneaky. She could feel the eyes watching her from the guard posts along the road, but they left her be. Selphnir frequently snorted and she gently patted his neck. 

“I know, I would much rather run too, but we needs be deliberate in our actions, friend.” She spoke to the horse, feeling his tension at having to trot echoing her own tension about the entire situation. “Come now, I need you to be intimidating.” She gently teased, but smiled as that got him to slow to a fast walk, her thoughts noting the reaction. 

Camp Dragonhead loomed at the top of the ridge she was slowly climbing. It was an ideal spot for a fortification, and as the night began to fall and dim the land, a good beacon. She gently pulled Selphnir to a stop as the ridge to the west cast its shadow over the valley. Saddle creaking a bit, she turned to look behind, squinting a bit to try to spy the Observatorium, but only just able to see the top of the tower there. It wasn’t exactly nervousness that brought her to pause, but the sense of being followed and warned of it by her spirits, and sure enough, she spied a small group of knights off the road, moving through what forested growth there was in an attempt to conceal themselves. 

Atara weighed her options. If she spurred Selphnir to a run she could easily make the distance to Camp Dragonhead, but there was no doubt the alarm that sort of arrival would cause. Minfilia’s words to her before she left echoed in her mind. ‘Pray try not to get into any fights, please!’ The Ascendant had left her leave to protect herself, of course, but the intention was clear. She closed her eyes and sighed. Selphnir tossed his head and snorted in response, and she laughed lightly, patting his shoulder before smoothly sliding out of the saddle, snow crunching beneath her boots as she set on the ground. “Maybe intimidation wasn’t quite the right route.” She softly patted Selphnirs flank. “Go, friend. It best I let myself be ‘small’ for now.” The horse eyed her some in obvious disagreement with her decision, but with a toss of his head, turned and trotted off into the shadows, fading from sight. 

Again she considered her next actions. She wasn’t sure of the ‘official’ level those following her acted upon, if they were doing so on orders or if they were superstitious and following the supposed ‘heretic’ of their own accord. Further approaching Camp Dragonhead could either give them pause, or embolden them at the prospect of allies to their cause. The rumor in Mor Dhona that au ra had once come to Coerthas only to be slaughtered for their appearance certainly didn’t settle her tensions, either. 

Sighing, she turned and walked off the path some distance, making it look as if she intended to camp, choosing a large stone to give herself a wall for ‘shelter’, but truthfully to keep from being surrounded. She kept an eye on the approaching knights, but did her best to seem like she was paying them no mind at all as she stamped down the snow and made a spot for a fire. It was almost amusing how well that worked. The knights began to move with a greater pace, neglecting to conceal themselves further, and she took note of their number. Three marital knights and one who looked to be a caster, a healer or a black mage however, she could not tell. She crouched down as she built a small fire within a circle of stone and snow, using a bit of coal she had brought with her. It did not cast much light, but a goodly amount of heat, and the action of ‘officially’ setting up camp she hoped would give the knights some measure of pause. 

The group approached, the caster lingering back while the more heavily armored knights formed a line, coming up just outside of the meager light cast by her fire, Atara staying crouched down by it. Inside, her spirit guide grew annoyed that they didn’t state their intention as they stood there. Atara echoed the annoyance, drawing in a slow breath as she looked up to the one who seemed the leader, wielding a large axe. “Greetings, knights. Do you wish a moment to warm at the fire while on your patrol?” She gave them the benefit of the doubt.

The axeman shifted his weapon in his hands. “Trying to act as if nothing is amiss,  _ heretic _ ?” His confirmation of the worst possible options caused the paladin to shift her shoulder down slightly, hand readying to pull her shield. 

She tried to let her accent come stronger as she spoke in reply. “Heretic? I do not yet know your lands or people well, is it not premature to call me a heretic when I of yet do not know who it is you worship?” 

The knight scoffed. “You feign ignorance when your very being exhibits all of the traits of being one, you sinner. You may have fooled the others by claiming to be from some far off lands, to say you are a representative of the noble Scions of the Seventh Dawn, but we good men of the faith are not so easily tricked!” The two lancers flanking his sides brought their weapons down as he shifted his axe in his hands again. “Your eyes are aflame with their twisted light, yield, and we may grant you a quick death.”

She wondered if she would end up having a discussion with Minfilia about what constituted ‘defending yourself’ as she stayed there for a breath more, then twisted and stood with a speed the knights did not expect. Her shield flashed through the air and solidly struck the caster in the head before it returned to her, the robed figure crumpling to the ground. The other three startled in surprise at the sudden movement and reaction from the au ra, one of the lancers stumbling backwards. 

Smoothly, she caught her shield as it magically returned to her, eyes on the axeman as she adopted a defensive stance. “Consider this a free lesson today on the difference between an Au Ra and a Dravanian, then.” She growled out, not drawing her sword. “For example..” She started to speak, then shifted her feet and lunged forward, ducking under the forward stab of a lance as she swung her shield with an upward swing, striking the lancer solid about the chest and shoulder and throwing him back into a snowdrift, groaning. Spinning, she struck out a foot in a kick to the stomach and waist of the other lancer, winding him and sending him staggering backwards. She faced the axe wielder. “...were I a heretic, three would be dead and you would be next.” 

The last knight roared in anger as he raised his axe to strike, charging forward towards the much smaller paladin. She smoothly sidestepped his swing as it came crashing down onto her fire, scattering the coals and plunging the small camp into darkness, save the dying embers in the snow, and the red glow of her eyes he so helpfully pointed out as a sign of her supposed ‘sin.’ Again and again he swung at her, again and again she stepped aside, backing her way towards the road, smirking as one of his wild swings struck down the winded lancer. Occasionally she would deflect a strike with an almost casual shrug of her shield, but she found it more amusing to let him miss entirely than grant him even the satisfaction of metal on metal. 

She learned a few choice Corethan swear words and phrases as the scuffle made its way onto the cleared stone of the road; movement up the hill caught the corner of her eye as she dodged yet another strike of the axe. Noting the group approaching on chocobo, she sighed inwardly and prepared for the scuffle to extend once they saw her fighting the other knight. She opted to end the current amusement with a quick toss of her shield again, striking the axeman square in the helm and causing him to crumple to the ground. “Diplomacy is not my strong suit.” She murmured, setting her shield back to her shoulders as she turned to watch the trio approaching. 

Three knights came to a pause a short distance away, she noting the difference in heraldry on the shields of these men rather than the four she just ‘disciplined’. While the knights laying in the snow wore symbols with a great bell upon them, these knights held shields with a unicorn head. The two knights flanking the center figure had full helms, but the knight in the middle did not, letting her see the light haired elezen and his highly amused expression, the mirth in his expression somewhat startling, all things considered. She glanced down at the groaning knight at her feet, then up to the others. 

“Would you be the esteemed representative of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn we were sent word to expect?” The pale haired knight finally spoke, she relieved at not having to try to start the conversation first, though continued confusion at how light and amused his tone was. 

“Ah, yes, that would be me.” Atara cleared her throat a little and took a step sideways from the knight on the ground, sketching a light bow. “I am Atara Mos of the Scions, if it pleases you.”

The knight slid off the back of his chocobo and gestured slightly, the other two knights doing likewise and moving to check on the unconscious fellows while the other came towards her, giving her his own bow in reply. “A pleasure to meet you, m’lady. I am Ser Haurchefant Greystone, commander of Camp Dragonhead. When you did not arrive by sundown we felt it wise to take a short stroll to check for signs of your passing through the area. Alas, it seems you ran into some of my less…” he paused, nudging the axeman with a toe. “...knowledgeable countrymen, ignorant of peoples outside our lands.”

Atara eyed the other two knights as they checked on the unconscious ones, her good hand flexing slightly at her side. “I had been forewarned, so expected it. The hope was that I would be something of an example to help teach, but...this isn’t quite the lesson I intended to put forth.” She offered Haurchefant a smile, but blinked in confusion as he threw his head back and laughed.

“Oh, no, do not apologize Lady Atara. If anything, your more...gracious lesson is more likely to stay in their minds. I would be honored if you were to continue to offer such lectures to mine own knights should they be deserving of it.” He grinned, and she found herself softening to his good humor. “Come, tis but a short walk to the Camp, surely you would be more comfortable within her walls than around a meager fire here in the wild.” Haurchefaunt turned to the other two knights. “Get these four to the nearest loch, and want not in your explanation to the knights there. Though we are forever friends with House Durendaire, those of Hallienarte would enjoy learning of the lesson these good ser’s were blessed with today.” 

Even her guide warmed up rapidly to the elezen ser as he spoke. He projected his emotion so honestly and truly in his voice and eyes that she couldn’t help but automatically feel safe in his presence, which if her guide didn’t agree, would be a worry for her. She could hear the soft laughs from the other two accompanying knights as they saluted him at his orders, hefting unconscious bodies up onto chocobo back for their ‘delivery’ closer to the Observatorium. 

“Now, let us retire to the warmth of a fire and a sip of a drink, hmm?” Haurchefaunt held his arm out to invite her to walk with him, and with a soft smile, she did.

\--------------

Atara liked Camp Dragonhead. Other than having a jolly ser as it’s Commander, she found the knights stationed there to be not  _ too _ unlike their lord in their attitudes, and she only had to give out a few lessons in the next week while the caravan was prepared. Soon, her ‘lessons’ were asked for willingly by several of the knights, eager to train with an experienced paladin, and she was only too happy to oblige. Her skill versus the lance wielding knights was noted by Haurchefaunt about the dining table one evening, and she ‘oh’ed lightly. 

Quick fingers unbuckled the gauntlet of her left hand as she brought it up, tugging it loose and setting it in her lap. She wore a leather glove below it, and he guessed what it was likely for even before she tugged the glove off of not properly moving fingers. A brow arched as he noted the scar she showed him, her crippled hand, smiling lightly. “I used to be a dragoon. I don’t have the hand strength to finesse the lance like it need be, but enough to keep my shield anchored to my arm. So here I am, paladin.”

Haurchefant reached out his hand, so large compared to hers, and held it there a moment, eyes asking the obvious question. She reached over and rested her hand in his, palm up, letting his thumb close over her palm as he drew it a bit closer. Her own brow arched at the almost tenderness with which the man traced his fingertips over the jagged edges of the scar tissue. When he gently grasped one fingertip in his and gently tested her strength and range of motion, did she realize what he was doing. “You certainly do care for the knights under your command.” She stated, it certainly not a question.

Bright eyes glanced up at her a moment, echoing the smile he wore. “I would not be fit of my station or title if I did not.” He replied. “I’ve seen lance wounds like this before, but not so… severe. It seems you were unable to obtain healing to the point it was almost too late, it’s amazing you still have any feeling or motion at all.” 

“I am a stubborn woman.” Atara smiled, leaning her elbow on the table as she let the elezen continue his examination. “If it possible, I wouldn’t have given up being a dragoon. I could have become a teacher, but the rest of me is still whole, no sense in not staying useful.” 

Haurchefant nodded. “I imagined so. As I said, I’ve seen wounds like this before, and my house does whatever it can to help any who are injured whilst under our banner. An injury need not be the end of things, as you have proven. I will reach out to those who’ve helped us provide aids for others.” He smiled as he rested her hand palm down on the table, but kept his lightly draped over it.

Behind her, her tailtip twitched a little and she smiled, letting him keep his hand there as she reached for her mug of ale. Peering over it’s edge at the room of eating knights at the long tables set in the dining hall, she let her eyes dart over them, noting which were trying to be subtle in their watching of the private table she and Haurchefant sat at. She set the mug down, nodding to the server who looked questionly at her, they coming over with a pitcher of ale and refilling her mug. As they stepped away, Atara turned her hand over under his so her palm was up again, letting him take hold of it. She smiled to herself as she reached for her refilled mug, murmuring low so only he could hear and hiding the rest of her words with the mug again. “Good ser, I may be off the mark, but…” She squeezed his hand as she continued lightly. “I am involved.” Still looking out over the room, she caught that look on his face of one about to say something, quickly adding. “With a woman.”

There was a twitch of his brow before Haurchefant’s smile broke wide and he made a sound like a smothered laugh before he coughed, keeping his hand with hers as he reached out for his own drink. “Ah, you did not misread, but my dear lady, your consideration for my pride in your discretion is a more charming gift than you can imagine and makes up for the disappointment.” 

She shrugged at him as she laughed softly. “If you say so, you accepted it with greater ease than some others.” Atara gently squeezed his hand again. “But you have become a fast friend this week, Haurchefant. Let your knights have their rumors.” 

Haurchefant grinned as he tipped the edge of his mug towards her, bringing hers up to lightly clack against his. “I am all too happy to.” 


	12. Disquiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SFW

Word finally arrived that a portion of the supplies meant for Mor Dhona had been lost to the giants south of Whitebrim Front, and they had not been able to recover them. Having to return to the Scion headquarters sooner than they’d be able to replace the missing portion, Haurchefant sent Atara on her way with what supplies had been collected with the promise to send word when the remainder had been obtained. She enjoyed the trip home, especially the part through the Observatorium where she was greeted by four greatly subdued and bowing knights. It took a fair bit of restraint to not tease the men, she leaving them with a measure of their pride by accepting the apology and moving on. 

She managed to not show outward disappointment at finding Yda and Papalymo out on their own assignment as she returned with what supplies she could. As predicted, she and Minfilia had a long conversation on what constituted defending oneself, with Minfilia eventually laughing and giving in to Atara’s version of it while in Coerthas, agreeing that it ultimately would win other au ra at least some measure of caution from the knights of Ishgard instead of outright hostility. She was also fairly glad that it established Atara with a good amount of connection to Camp Dragonhead, Minfilia noting that Ser Haurchefant was a stout ally to have formed. Atara nodded in agreement, then made motion to head out with the note she was going to find something to eat.

“Ah, Atara, a moment before you go.” Minfilia chewed on her lower lip a moment as she held out an envelope to the paladin, who took it with an arched brow. “Urianger requested the presence of someone more versed in the guarding arts, though he was his  _ usual _ self when it came to describing exactly why.” She smiled at the other Archon’s habits, Atara hiding her mild frustration with his lack of straightforwardness in a twitch of her tailtip as she took the paper, glancing at it. Sure enough, it said essentially what Minfilia said and nothing more, unable to hold back a slight sigh. Minfilia laughed lightly. “You will grow used to his evasiveness. He simply prefers speaking face to face on things.”

“Things well in hand, here, then?” Atara slipped the note into her pouch, briefly trailing her fingertips over the hunting horn also there. 

“Indeed! We have an embarrassment of riches when it comes to available people currently, thanks to the work of you and others. And you are admittedly the only one who uses a shield among us, currently, so though Urianger didn’t specifically ask for you, I’m certain you are who he intended.” Minfilia stepped around her desk to give the woman another smile. “Now, I could do with something to eat as well, let us go together?”

* * *

As the airship made its way from the Black Shroud into the sun baked sands, Thanalan was a temperature shock. After the snow of Coerthas and the cool shade of Gridania, even Mor Dhona was a general state of ‘cool’, but Thanalan was something else, especially the lands directly around Ul’dah. She didn’t tarry long in the city when the airship landed, striking out shortly after a brief trip into the shops. Making it into Horizon as the sun began to set, she decided to continue and urged her chocobo on. The cool air from the shallow pools between Horizon and Vesper Bay was a welcome respite of the heat of the day, the shadows stretching long and turning the heat to a cold night that most found uncomfortable. But after her travels, this level of cold was quite comfortable. 

Upon reaching Vesper Bay, she handed off the rented chocobo to the keep near the gate and started to walk towards the docks. It was still early enough in the evening that she had no worries of disturbing the sleep of the Scions who still called the area home as she slipped into the Waking Sands. She didn’t spend too much time exchanging pleasantries with the others aside from light smiles and a nod, making her way directly to the corner Urianger lurked in. 

Atara smiled to herself as her approach was quiet enough to not disturb the Archon from his current bit of reading, she standing quiet and watching him for a moment. He wasn’t one for small talk so she never got to know him well, but then again, neither was she, so she supposed the feeling was mutual. That he had the trust of the other Archons was enough for her, and she wondered if that, too, were mutual. She shifted on her feet a bit, and lightly coughed, hiding her smile behind her hand as Urianger startled slightly, quickly lifting his head. 

“Ah, Atara. I thank thee for answering mine summons, Minfilia alerted me of thine agreement.” Urianger bowed lightly to her, giving her the moment’s pause she needed to translate his more flowery speech than the rest of Eorzea. He was thankfully his usual brief self, getting straight to the point of requesting she meet with someone he promised was known to and an ally of the Scions. She didn’t bother trying to hide her mild displeasure at the evasiveness, even within their former sanctuary, giving the elezen a mild look, but nodding in agreement. She turned away, leaving him to his work, slipping away to claim a bunk for herself.

Her Elder spirit was annoyed with her, as it often was whenever she had to engage Urianger. Ever since the first meeting she had felt wary of him, tense and putting up shields, counter to her Spirit and it’s opinion of the Archon as knowledgeable, and it always led to a pressing of wills against each other as she stood her ground against the Spirit and its view. She grumbled lightly as she pulled her armor off and set it on a nearby stand, closing one eye against the press of the Spirit as it tried to understand her reasoning. ‘How many times must we go over this same ground.’ She thought to herself, laying down with a huff. The Spirit impressed that it would do so until it understood her, and she sighed. It wasn’t like she knew why the feelings were there either, which perhaps is what perplexed the Elder as much as it did. 

The paladin sighed and rolled onto her side, back to the wall so she could face the door. Though thankfully none of those who had died within the walls during the assault by the Empire were still ‘there’ to try to speak to her, the whole place still had an uneasy air to the spirit sensitive au ra, and a reminder of how she usually stayed elsewhere even when the building was the headquarters. A few others gradually slipped into the bunkroom as the night deepened but gave her a wide berth, leaving her respectfully alone towards the corner. She listened as the town bells tolled the late hour, listened to the sounds of others sleeping, watched quietly as sleep refused to come to her, but, she reminded herself, at least she was getting some form of ‘rest’. She gave up on the attempt as the sky began to lighten and pushed herself from the bed, dressing and stepping out into the cool ocean air before the sun even broke over the horizon. 

“Why Wineport.” She murmured to herself, puzzled at the rather out of the way choice for the request for assistance to have come from. Thankfully, Vesper Bay was home to a ferry to Limsa Lominsa, and it was a short ride from there to Costa Del Sol, where she would make the rest of the journey on rented chocobo with a brief riverboat jaunt. She liked the warmth of the coastal jungle better than the dry heat of Thanalan that made her scales itch, making the multiple day journey a lot more comfortable once on Limosian soil. Making it to Wineport as afternoon began, she handed off the rental bird and peered around the little village. A brow raised as she spied Alphinaud near the aetheryte, tilting her head as she started to approach the young elezen. 

Abruptly, a wave of disorientation hit her and she staggered some, dropping down to one knee and holding at the side of her head, vaguely aware of the young elezen running towards her. What struck her wasn’t the Echo, but what seemed her own thoughts, contradictions and repeats of the same image over and over again. She should know this person, it wasn’t Alphinaud. The surge of familiarity was intense and confusing not only to her but to the Elder spirit, images of memorial celebrations from the three city states flashing through her thoughts and seeing Alphinaud and someone who looked so similar, but she hadn’t participated in those memorials, she was certain of it. When Minfilia introduced her to the Grand Companies when they were there to recruit whoever it was that had killed Ifrit, she simply chose the Twin Adder with no intense thought when they offered for her to join up as well, declining to go to the memorials. But now she felt that she had been there, traveled to all three cities. Why would she have chosen the Addler when she was so strongly in her training in Ul’dah then? 

Dozens of questions flew through her mind, not only her own but many from the spirits, and she felt like she was looking at the pieces of two different puzzles all jumbled together at once, pain splitting through her head as she grimaced. “Atara? Atara, are you alright?” The elezen was calling to her, voice feminine and certainly not Alphinaud. 

She grimaced and squinted against the bright light from the nearby aetheryte, looking up to the young woman crouched in front of her, hand on her shoulder. “A..Alisae?” She ventured, the name rising from the jumble of thoughts. The elezen blinked.

“Yes, that’s me, I’m Aliphanud’s sister. Did Urianger tell you my name? I had asked him not to..” The likeness was uncanny, but Atara quickly latched onto the differences. Alisae chose to accent her clothing with red ribbons, and there was something sharper about her gaze, and the energy she projected was somehow more intense than her sibling. The paladin shook her head some, the jumble of disorientation fading away as she slowly stood up. “..ack, please be careful. Are you alright? Did you see an Echo?” Alisae kept her hand on the au ra’s arm as she stood, looking a bit wary.

“No, I...it was nothing, nothing from you.” Atara smiled lightly as she waved her hand a little, gently brushing Alisae’s hand aside. “My apologies. I imagine it does you no comfort to have the one sent to aid you fall down upon meeting you. And as for your name, I think your brother mentioned something at some point, but I'm afraid I couldn’t tell you exactly when or what.”

Alisae gave her a long calculating look, but then smiled lightly, some relief coming to her eyes, though she was far more guarded than her brother. “I know of the gift you and others have and know how it can be unpleasant and its timing less than ideal, do not worry. Come, I reserved a table at the inn here, let us rest and talk.”

Atara nodded and followed along after the shorter elezen, a touch confused at her thoughts turning towards thinking what height Alisae would be compared to her when she grew older, shaking her head slightly at herself as they walked into the inn.

* * *

The request only got odder as Alisae explained what it was she needed help with. Atara wasn’t exactly new to the art of infiltration of Imperial Castrums, but this one in particular seemed no more special than the others. “Ah, but what am I but a humble servant.” The paladin muttered to herself as she pulled herself on top of a rock next to the high metal barrier surrounding the Castrum later that evening, dropping down on the other side with a soft clank of her armor. The amount of storage boxes and occasional glimpses at more scientific equipment lent credence to this being a research facility more than a marital one, not that she had any reason to doubt what Alisae had told her. 

She crouched in the darkness, watching the movement of the imperial troops. Spying an opening, she hurried along the wall and made her way deeper into the castrum, gradually slipping deeper still into the stronghold. Alisae was certain there was some form of an entry to an underground area, not a direction the imperials usually went, as they much prefered building up into the sky to show their superiority. Atara supposed that if there was, it was in the bowels of the place. She smiled to herself as she came upon a natural cliff edge, finding what she supposed was part of the cavern Alisae said the imperials were probing, and after a bit more searching, she found a guarded section with what seemed to be a cargo elevator down. 

A bit more exploring and she found a suitable way to sneak herself and her new charge down underground, and made her way from the Castrum with due haste. Returning to Wineport, she spoke with the member of the Maelstrom who turned out to be in Alisae’s employ, leaving the details of her find with her before she departed for the evening, heading back to Costa Del Sol with the intent of picking up some supplies from the traders there and spending the evening. The travel back from Wineport to the coastal town allowed her the chance to mull over the feelings she got from this cavern that she hadn’t even had the chance to go into yet. 

Corrupted crystals dotted the landscape nearby, and the cavern itself was ‘new’, opened up since the fall of the moon that had brought her to Eorzea in the first place. But aside from the strangeness of the crystals aether, there was certainly a sense of foreboding from deep within, one that held a familiar twinge to the occasional feelings she would get from the lands of Coerthas, though why that familiarity was there, she did not yet know. She lightly reached for her Elder spirit, and found it with a similar wary sensation, smiling lightly to herself that they agreed on that at least even if the disorientation from earlier still had the spirits in a disquieted state in her mind. 

“I’ve the sense this is going to be...intense.” The paladin murmured to herself as she walked into the coastal town, starting to prepare for the exploration to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have found a wonderfully supportive Discord group over at https://discord.gg/5TdhTCV Please, come join us!


	13. Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depth has multiple meanings.

Atara was surprised at the relative quietness of Alisaie compared to her brother, who was happy to talk about whatever came to his mind with whoever he happened to be traveling with. Alisaie, on the other hand, projected an air of seriousness and determination; and a grace to her movements that betrayed a more adventurer-like life than her sibling. Atara didn’t need to help her much as they climbed over the wall and into the castrum, and she was skilled at sneaking as they made their way through to the elevator down. Unfortunately, the door to the large shed that sheltered the elevator needed a keycard, the duo regrouping to consider their options.

“I admit to being relatively loath to try to find one by combat with the soldiers around.” Atara murmured lightly as she peered around the edge of the building, watching the movement further in. 

Alisaie made a thoughtful sound, but nodded in agreement as she leaned back against the wall of the shed. “If this truly be a research facility rather than a base, and I’ve no reason to doubt your scouting, a card would be more likely on a scientist than a soldier.” 

“I’ve not seen any of those either time in here. If they were smart, after the Black Wolf fell they went to minimal staffing and research stopped.” The paladin glanced back to the young elezen. Atara grunted lightly and stepped back behind the shelter of the large shed, turning and eying it’s make. It was very much not your standard imperial construction, seemingly haphazardly thrown together out of scrap plates and planks. She frowned. “Why is this such shoddy construction?”

Alisaie turned to look as well when her attention was drawn, a brow arching. “You’re correct, this looks like scrap like a shanty town outside of Ul’dah.” 

The au ra bit at her lower lip in thought, her tail swaying a bit. She stepped forward and drew her sword, crouching down. Alisaie watched curiously, but said nothing. “I’m thinking...this was a lot more of an open elevator shaft, and as part of the ‘shutdown’ that seems to have come over the place, this was hastily built to prevent it being seen from afar.” She ran her hand along the join of two plates, then near where it seemed screwed together, jammed the tip of her sword in and began to pry it apart, looking a bit triumphant as the rivets simply popped out. “Not even secured to anything inside.” 

Atara blushed lightly as Alisaie clapped softly for her, glancing aside at her with an arched brow. “As resourceful as Urianger said you were.” 

“Mm, well, don’t clap for us too much yet, this might not be so easy to go down.” She grunted as she pulled at the panel, wedging it outward. “Can you get through that?” 

Alisaie nodded as she got down on her hands and knees, having to twist some but she got through. “Here, there’s a bar, let me wedge it…” Alisaie leaned heavily into her makeshift lever, keeping the opening from closing as the paladin followed her within. 

As the metal plate slid back into place with a bit of a sharp noise, the two froze and held their breaths, unmoving as they strained for any indication that they had drawn unwanted attention, but relaxed as a few tense moments passed without any sound from the outside. Exchanging glances and smiles, the two turned their attention to the ‘elevator’, eyes adjusted to the flickering utility light over the normal entrance on the other side of the building.

“I...suspect they uh, reappropriated this elevator.” Atara dryly commented as Alisaie peered down into the nearly room wide hole that stretched before them evidence of the former workings and supports for an elevator scattered about the ground. “At least they put a fence around the hole. How considerate.”

“There’s a maintenance ladder to the side there, look.” Alisaie pointed to the simple rung ladder, and hid a smile as she heard the sigh from the woman behind her.

“Alright, at least we’re going down instead of up, that’s a small comfort. Let me go first so I can catch you.” The paladin’s tail swayed lightly behind her as she walked around the hole, prying up the ‘barrier’ with a roll of her eyes and muttering something about the effectiveness of the fence. 

“It’s a ladder, Atara, I don’t think I’ll fa..” Alisaie started, blinking as Atara abruptly made a hissing noise. 

“ACH, no, do not tempt fate by saying that, thank you very much. Do you know what Alphinaud would do to me, let alone Urianger, if I let you get hurt? Urianger would probably use some spell that hasn’t seen the light of day since the first Umbral Era or something.” She turned and started down the ladder, testing it’s grip. At least this seemed normal quality imperial construction, and the occasional emergency lights along the shaft lit the way well enough.

Alisaie covered a light laugh behind her hand before she began to follow the au ra. “And I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Who, Urianger?” Atara briefly entertained the thought of counting the rungs as she went down, but thought against it.

“Aye.” Alisaie answered, silent for a few moments. “At least he thinks so, from his tone when he advised me of your agreement.”

Atara didn’t answer at first. “I wouldn’t say that I dislike him. My Elder spirit gets on me for being guarded around him too. I have to admit that I’m...not sure.” She glanced up to make sure Alisaie showed no difficulty climbing, then glanced down as she continued. “His way of speaking certainly makes me have to go over what he said twice and I’m still not sure I translated him correctly, and I’ve been speaking the common tongue for five years now.”

Another light laugh from the elezen and Alisaie clucked her tongue. “Well, even for us Sharlayan’s he can be somewhat difficult to follow, so you’re not the only one there.” The pair fell silent for a bit as they continued downward.

“Hold up a moment.” Atara paused after a few minutes of climbing, hanging there quietly as she listened. “Imperial machinery below, and it’s getting brighter. And warmer. That platform is pretty close.”

“Good. I do not look forward to the trip back up.”

“We could always teleport out.” Atara tried to hide the distaste from her tone.

“Well, we’ll see. I can feel the aether getting twisted as we get closer to those corrupted crystals, it might not be feasible.” 

“Eh, good point.” She exhaled lightly in relief as they fell silent and continued their task, breathing a bit heavier from it.

It was almost hypnotic, the idle climbing and the sound their feet and hands made on the metal ladder rungs. Enough so that only the spark of alert from her spirits kept Atara from completely missing that the ladder abruptly stopped, she clamping down on the ladder with her good hand as her foot did not find purchase. “Woah! Stop!” She alerted Alisaie and looked down.

“What?” Alisaie asked from above, peering down at the paladin. 

Alisaie was fairly certain that the guttural word from the xaela was a bad word in her native tongue. “The ladder stops. This must have formerly been where the top of the elevator was.” The shaft continued down for another distance before the metal floor below. “About...eight yalms or so.” She estimated. 

“So..” Alisaie started, watching as the paladin hooked her left arm into the ladder rung and curled her apparently prehensile tail around one of the ladder sides, reaching behind her to her pack. 

“My rope isn’t that long, but it’ll lessen the drop at the other end, at least.” Atara glanced up, giving Alisaie a grin. “Looks like we won’t be climbing back up after all.” 

“Want one of my ropes to add to it?” Alisaie offered, shifting her hold on the ladder.

“No, we can probably find something amid all the imperial junk down there, if we need to build a ladder up again. I’d rather save your rope for deeper down.” Atara responded, shifting down as far as she could to tie her rope to the last rung. Carefully lowering herself down, feet swinging, she grabbed the rope and let go of the metal ladder. Her knot held, but the ladder made a metal noise of complaint. 

“Are you going to catch me?” Alisaie asked as she got to the end of the ladder, watching the paladin swing her way down the rope in a somewhat unorthodox fashion using one hand and tail further down to hold the rope, noticing for the first time how the woman didn’t use her left hand for much of a grip and more holding the rope with the inside of her elbow with that arm.

“As long as you don’t do some sort of acrobatic dive off the rope, sure.” Atara glanced up and smiled, reaching the knotted end of the rope and hanging from it with one hand as she eyed the distance to the ground. “Okay, this is more like three yalms.” She shook herself as if to loosen herself for the coming drop, and let go. 

Alisaie grimaced as Atara let go, but her eyes widened when the armored woman hit the ground and rolled on impact, hopping to her feet a moment after, no worse for wear. She briefly glanced around, then looked up and smiled. “Come, fair maiden! Thy loyal paladin shall catch thee!”

The young elezen laughed at the bad attempt at impersonation of the Archon who sent the paladin on her journey, shaking her head slightly as she shimmied down the rope before dropping off the end of it with no hesitation. In the back of her mind the very brief thought of wonder at already trusting this new Scion came to her, oofing softly as the au ra grunted lightly as she easily caught her in her arms, cradling Alisaie a moment. ‘Well, she  _ is _ the one who stopped Ultima Weapon.’ Alisaie reasoned to herself as she was set back on her feet. 

The light was bright now, and as the pair turned to look at where they had reached, it was obvious why. Corrupted crystals laced through the cavern visible beyond at the bottom of the sharp ramp the platform of the elevator was meant to slide down further, their yellow light bright enough to require no additional lighting. Atara stepped forward first. “This looks to have been the last structurally sound part of the normal rock that they felt safe enough putting an elevator in, but look, ramps down at the bottom of this slide bit, and stairs over there.” The area was littered with crates and piles of tools and equipment, Atara making note of the crates as a possible option for building a way up to the rope again.

“Good, I’d much rather walk than climb, thank you.” Alisaie started onward, rubbing at her arms a little to soothe the soreness from the exertion. Atara fell into step at her side, the two silent as they first went down the stairs of the sharp incline, then as they zigzagged on the gradually descending ramps. The elezen made an uncomfortable sound as the aether grew thick and the light from the corrupted crystals grew brighter, the ramp spearing out to move back and forth down the wall of the gigantic cavern. Alisaie gasped softly. “It’s so...big.”

Atara stretched her legs a bit and got in front of the teenager, but felt the need to keep within arms reach. “It didn’t seem so vast from the bit that was open to the sky back there.” She agreed. 

The imperial construction opened out into a wide platform, stretching out to the edge of obvious Alagan technology, the almost crystalline structure of the Alagan platforms blending in with the natural cavern outside of the reddish color it so often carried. The sound of their footsteps echoed on the metal, Atara’s metal greaves a touch louder than Alisaie’s boots. “Alagan tech.” The au ra noted as they paused in the center of the last imperial platform. 

“No doubt the Garleans looking for something more to exploit. Whatever this Alagan facility is for, they wouldn’t care.” Alisaie replied with a touch of distaste. The two glanced to each other in agreement, though the sudden mechanical hum that started up in front of them quickly drew their eyes forward, Atara taking half a step forward to put herself somewhat in front of the slightly shorter girl. Down the first hallway through the corrupted crystal into the Alagan facility, a defense orb had come to life and hovered in the center of the path, soft beeps and whirrs coming from it as it waited to see if they would challenge it. “Look, behind the orb. A piece of Dalamud, part of the reason for all these crystals.”

“I see the guard is still active.” Atara rolled her shoulders as she reached for her shield, securing the straps as she slid it onto her arm, then drew her sword. 

“Likely they hoped to take as much as they could intact, suggesting this a recent abandonment of the project if they didn’t even get through the first door.” Alisaie smirked a bit in satisfaction that the Imperials had been stopped in their tracks, doubtless from the recent victory over Ultima. 

Atara shifted into a fighting stance, glancing to the side and lifting her chin towards a group of metal containers. “Go behind there, please, I’d hate for you to get hit with any shrapnel.” She smiled as Alisaie nodded, moving over where indicated. Once the elezen girl was safely sheltered, Atara began to walk forward at a steady but cautious pace, watching the orb for it’s reaction to her obviously threatening presence. 

As she expected, there was a series of whirring and beeps as part of the orb spun about, lights on its surface flashing. Atara paused for half a breath before she surged forward, shield held to the front as she slammed into the Alagan tech and swung her sword in an upward arc from below. A laser reflected off of her shield and hit the wall with a sharp crack before the orb shuddered, the paladin’s sword slicing through the metal plate and up into the center of the sphere, sparks buzzing. She shoved her foot against the front of the sentry bot and shoved it backwards as she jerked her sword free with a snapping sound, wires catching on the upward curve of the tip of the blade and cut through. 

It began to falter in the air as it beeped and static buzzed, smoke starting to rise into the air, acrid and sharp. Another flash of a laser over her shoulder, missing entirely and dissipating harmlessly against the floor behind her as Atara pressed her advantage. Swinging her shield in a wide strike, she knocked it backwards again and it wobbled dangerously, then crashed into the ground as the au ra followed up with an almost hacking downard strike of her sword, aiming to do to the thing from above what she did from below, edge cutting into it and nearly meeting her other slice to cut it in half. It slowly rolled away from the woman as the downward slope pulled it deeper into the ruins, beeping and hissing noises frantically rising before a resounding crackle of static, and the lights on the sphere went dark. 

Atara stayed defensive, shield back in front of herself as she waited for the orb to finally come to a clanking stop in its roll up against the wall. She watched as the black smoke rose from the two slices, slowly moving forward to prod it with the tip of her sword. No reaction. She nodded to herself and turned to look back to Alisaie, smiling. “Okay, let's continue.” 

“That almost seemed anticlimactic.” Alisae commented as she came out from her shelter, walking up to the orb and peering down at it. 

“Early warning system, I suspect. Not entirely intended to survive the encounter to give the better defenders a sense of what's coming, perhaps. It certainly felt like it was more sizing me up than trying to stop me.” Atara sheathed her sword, but kept her shield on her arm, starting to lead the way deeper. 

“Counter productive?” Alisaie questioned, nudging the orb once before she started to follow in Atara’s wake. “Though, the Alagans were all about collecting power, more than the Garlean’s are. A test for you.” 

The paladin shrugged. “Mayhap. I noticed some bits broken on the ground that were there before I sliced that orb open. Makes me think the Garleans may have gotten a bit deeper into the ruin than we thought and that was a repaired, or replaced, sentry.” 

“Hmm.” Alisaie murmured to herself, mulling over the spoken thought. The door deeper in easily slid open, Atara grumbling lightly a moment as a wave of warm air blew over the pair. Atara heard Alisaie gasp as the red of Alagan platforms and columns came into view, her eyes trained upwards. There, held within the grasp of the corrupted crystal aether loomed an immense black shape, partly crystalized where the stone clung to its edges like webs. “Dark wings that would engulf the very heavens…” Alisaie blinked. “..These could only belong to Bahamut, the primal who laid Eorzea to waste five years ago.” The elezen continued, recalling the story of Carteneau.

Atara let her mind drift slightly to her own life five years prior. It was that cataclysmic fall that had drawn her there, easy to follow the descent of the red moon as the spirits urged her into the strange land so far from everywhere she knew as home. She hadn’t reached Eorzea proper before Bahamut broke free of his prison, but felt the waves of aether as they washed across the water from the distant continent to where she was traveling. The day was notable to her, the spirits silent in the solemnity of the moment. They did not speak to her again until days later.

“... If Bahamut is truly a primal, how is it that he retains his physical form?” Aliasie’s question drew Atara from her thoughts, she looking to the young scholar. “Did Grandfather defeat him? Or is there some other explanation?” She turned to look to the paladin. “We must press on if we are to learn the truth.” The two exchanged a nod and began to walk forward, Atara stopping as Alisaie briefly did to glance behind them, the au ra looking back to see what had drawn the elezen’s attention. Nothing but the cavern of crystals they had moved through stood behind them, no Alagan tech or monsters approaching. 

A shudder shook her spine. ‘ _ WRONG.’  _ The word rang through Atara’s mind, one of the most clear comments from her Elder spirit in quite some time, setting her nerves on edge. She made a low sound as Alisaie turned to continue on, leaving the paladin to have to speed her steps to catch up once she shook herself into motion. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood, the paladin finding herself grown even more wary than before. 

The advantage of coming into the cavern from above allowed them a clear view of the red Alagan columns and platforms that stretched out in front of them across a wide chasm, yellow corrupted aether crystalized in webs and ooze that gripped them, providing places they could see to navigate across. A few creatures, God’s only knew how they got down there, wandered about the platforms, but proved to be little challenge to Atara as they continued. Alisaie stayed a platform or two back from her escort, letting Atara make sure there was nothing else and waiting for the woman to gesture for her to come forward. 

They were approaching the last few platforms when the air filled with a slithering, hissing sound, Alisaie dropping down into a crouch as she stepped back a bit. Atara’s eyes narrowed as she lowered herself into a defensive stance, the slithering audible around them as something approached, occasional glimpses of what looked to be a long body coiling up around the platforms as it approached. With a hissing sort of roar an immense cobra rose up in front of the au ra on the platform ahead of her, easily three times her height as fangs as large as she flashed as it threatened her with a hiss that shook the air around her. 

Atara gave it little time to posture, darting forward and quickly engaging it. Alisaie found the fight difficult to follow, the coils of the snake often obscuring the paladin from view, leaving her only to listen to the sound of fang striking shield and sword slicing through air and scale. Those glances she did get of the au ra displayed a confidence and aggression that the elezen realized struck her differently from watching other front line fighters. Warriors were always a whirlwind of steel and fury, while other paladins and gladiators she had known carried a calculating edge. 

Atara was a blend of the two. Where she would anticipate a strike to block with her shield, she would then lash out with her sword, making the giant cobra pay for it’s attack with blood. Where others may wait for the attacks to come to them, she pressed her advantages and moved in as if she were tasked with dealing damage rather than protection. Alisaie considered that technically, the paladin was assigned both, but the aggression and press to attack was still more than expected. The grace and strength of her movements brought to mind the movements a lancer or dragoon would employ more than a free paladin, and Alisaie made a mental note to ask the au ra of her training when the opportunity arose. 

The cobra made a sound of anger and pain as Atara’s sword broke one of its fangs, the woman yelling in guttural anger and pain as the splash of blood from the strike fell over her face, but instead of staggering back from the likely poison, she instead surged forward, her sword piercing into the top of the snake’s mouth and through it’s head before she knocked it’s jaws away with her shield, the resounding crack of bone breaking echoing through the chamber before the ground shuddered as the giant beast fell heavily to the platform . 

Alisaie darted forward as Atara staggered back from the body of the beast, it soon dissipating into the strange black smoke that so many of the creatures faded away into. She pulled out her tome as she jumped over to the platform, almost slipping in the ichor that lingered before she reached Atara’s side, the paladin down on one knee and aggressively rubbing her sleeve over her eyes, hissing lightly. 

“Atara, wait, stop, you’ll only grind it more into your eyes.” Alisaie pulled her canteen from her belt. “Tilt your head back.” She instructed as her healing aether washed over the au ra to focus on other wounds first. Alisaie noted the tight clench of Atara’s jaw as she did as requested and wondered if the pain was that intense as she poured water over the woman’s eyes, washing away the blood and gore before casting Esuna, purging away any poison. 

As soon as the Esuna took hold, the paladin rose to her feet and took a step back from the other woman, shaking her head as she turned away, her tail lashing behind her. She drew in an audible deep breath as she sheathed her sword, exhaling roughly, then breathed in again, the trembling tension leaving her form as she focused. Alisaie watched the woman warrily, it would do no good to lose her protection so early into their little expedition for one thing, and for another she felt an odd pang of feeling in her gut she had yet to place the source of. 

“I hate snakes.” Atara finally roughly said, scowling as she looked down at her sleeve, pulling her own canteen out to splash water over her face to get the rest of the gunk off of her skin and scales. 

Alisaie smiled, relief releasing a tension in her shoulders. “Ah, I was afraid it hurt too much.” 

Clearing her throat, Atara took a drink before securing canteen to her hip again. “Ah, no, no, just..yeah not fond of these things. I take the assignments in Mor Dhona to go clear them out on a regular basis.” She took another breath, then gave Alisaie a smile. “Onward?” 

“Onward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you a writer? Are you a reader? Artist? Are you delightfully debauched? DO I HAVE THE PLACE FOR YOU. https://discord.gg/5TdhTCV Come join the discord server! Supportive, fun, creative people and we only bite if you like it.


	14. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More questions than answers

Alisaie found herself stating the obvious more than once in the next while. Every time something would appear to attack them, she’d call out it’s name as she dodged to cover, as if Atara wasn’t already aware of it’s presence. The paladin would usually be already engaged with the foe. But the sameness of the things they were facing was exasperating and added to the difficulty of keeping track of time in the sunless depths. After a briefly heated debate about her abilities in a fight, Atara let Alisaie join her in fighting the Alagan spheres, the young elezen feeling a bit triumphant at being able to talk the paladin into letting her help, not to say eager to prove herself. 

They made their way past what they figured was something of a series of timed gates and lesser obstacles before fighting against what Atara assumed was the culmination of the knowledge the spheres had gained. This last sphere was massive, compared to all the others, and the fight certainly more frantic. As predicted, it seemed the tech had been learning their techniques, and was employing new defenses against them, but it hadn’t as long of a time to study Alisaie. Her spells proved to be the things downfall, weakening it just enough for the paladin to strike at critical points and bring the massive thing to a crashing halt. The pair shared a triumphant grin and the au ra gave a thumbs up, leading the way forward.

There was zero doubt that the word harshly bitten off by Atara as the platform started to move was a curse in her native language, one Alisaie filed away in her mind as she tried hard not to laugh, though the sudden motion of the platform certainly had startled her, too. They both crept closer to the edge and peered over to try to see where it was they were going.

“I'm starting to think this place is deeper than your Gods’ Seven Hells.” Atara commented as they looked into what seemed an endless depth. 

“I thought you followed Oschon?” Alisaie asked, curious.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I follow him, but I'm not going to  _ not _ believe in someone when I'm in their lands. The spirits around Eorzea reference the gods enough I’d be rude if I didn’t acknowledge them at least.”

“Hmm. Prudent.” 

A softly snorted laugh as Atara caught herself at the words. “Thank you.”

They shared a glance before looking about at the dramatically changed scenery as the platform continued to descend, going from the red mechanics to a series of yellow rings in what seemed a descending series of platforms. Something seemed to have crashed through the center long ago and knocked off pathways and broke significant portions of the possible paths. 

“And look, corrupted creatures, again.” Alisaie pointed to the figures visible wandering about. “This is too far to reasonably assume they fell down here when the pieces of Dalamud speared the land.”

Atara narrowed her eyes some as the red platform came to a stop, stepping off and waiting for Alisaie to do so, both of them startling a bit, again, as the platform began to rise once they were off. A shared shrug before they looked forward again. “Well. Let’s see if we can avoid them as much as possible.” The paladin cautioned, the young arcanist nodding in agreement.

Avoiding the various creatures was relatively easy, even though it took the pair a bit of time to determine how to move deeper when there was no visible ramp down. They came to a spot where a circular floor looked to be a marker or perhaps called another moving elevator platform, Atara standing cautiously on it as she peered down to the other yellow rings. Alisaie continued her looking about, and with a noise of curiosity, found what she thought was a terminal. “Maybe this calls an elevator?” She mused, accessing the tech.

Once again the words Atara quite abruptly shouted most definitely were curses as with a strange whirring noise, she was quite suddenly bodily flung through the air and off the now glowing circle, thrown deeper into the rings. Alisaie stood by the terminal, struck dumb for a moment as she stared at where the paladin had been a moment before, then rushed forward and dropped to her knees, peering over the edge. “Atara!”

Alisaie didn’t know what she expected to see when she peered over the edge, but the sight of the woman laying on her back some distance below on the next ring down, and laughing, was certainly not it. She blinked in confusion, yelling down to the woman. “Are you alright?”

The paladin pointed to the platform at Alisaie’s side. “It’s okay, I..have no idea what to call that but I swear it’s actually gentle when you get to this side. Go on, hop onto the circle!” Atara called back as she rolled over onto her knees and stood. Alisaie gave her her best disbelieving look, but the paladin wasn’t looking, brushing her knees off. Turning, she peered up at the elezen again. “I’ll catch you again.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about!” Alisaie quickly replied, thankful for the distance not allowing the au ra to see the blush on her cheeks. “How is this a viable form of transportation?!”

“It was probably for robots or spheres or something, not people.” Atara helpfully noted, and Alisaie had to pause at the logic. She chuffed out a breath and peered over to the circle that had launched the paladin a few minutes prior. “Alisaie. Now is not the time we start to doubt how we travel through this place, we kind of threw that concern out the moment we dropped off a rope dangling over a platform.” 

“I see Urianger sent me the logical one.” Alisaie commented, hearing a laugh below, her cheeks blushing at the reminder of how voices carried in the cavern. With a sigh, she pushed herself to stand and approached the glowing circle, telling herself of why they were down there in the first place as she stepped onto it.

For half a moment, Alisaie wondered if it would work before she suddenly felt herself heaved up into the air like a thrown stone, unable to keep from flailing her arms out of reflex as the air aether swirled around her. She felt it gather below her and abruptly slow her descent, dropping her unceremoniously with a soft thud at Atara’s side. She staggered from the wave of disorientation and dizzy that flowed over her, Atara chuckling as she reached out to hold her shoulder to steady her. 

“See, not so bad.” Atara soothed the ruffled nerves of the younger elezen, Alisaie giving her a bland glance that set the paladin laughing again.

Now that they knew how to make their way down, the travel through this odd section went quickly, despite how menacing the electricity arcing between broken pathways seemed, the packs of creatures easily avoidable, or just as easily dispatched. The duo mused that perhaps these creatures were some form of natural cleaning, the slugs and aurela keeping organic matter cleaned up, and the mantis keeping their population in check. Neither could determine why the golems were there. Atara almost seemed disappointed when they reached what was obviously a moving platform elevator again, the woman amused with the previous travel method of being tossed unceremoniously through the air.

This platform was easily enough triggered, but of course the trip wouldn’t be without incident. Several pod shaped machines dropped down onto the platform with them as it began to move down, Atara making a low sound as she stepped forward and drew her sword. 

Neither were surprised as the fight only seemed to get more and more difficult the more of the automatons they destroyed. “Seems like the tactic has become to try to overwhelm us with numbers, if one strong thing won’t do it.” Atara commented as she kicked aside the remains of one of the smaller constructs. 

Behind her, Alisaie groaned lightly as another set of the mechanical opponents dropped from above. “I do believe we may need a bit of a rest at the bottom of this elevator.” She replied, Atara grunting lightly in agreement, though she caught the paladin’s eye as she looked back with concern, and smiled lightly. Fighting with someone else was a refreshing change, and she found it entertaining on more than one level. Having Atara there allowed Alisaie to focus more on her magic than on dodging, since things were more interested in trying to break the paladin than her, but she found herself running low on her personal strength in exchange, learning on the fly how to maintain a better balance. 

Soon enough, they were working together like they had done this dozens of times before. Atara quietly reflected on such as she dodged out of the way of a quick strike but had to roll into a lash of a metal whip instead, feeling the soothing touch of Alisaie’s healing flow over the wound a moment after the heat of blood bloomed. It was such a different feeling from her brother; where his healing magic was almost clinical and precise and carried that detached sensation because of it, Alisaie’s felt like a natural caress, like her concern fueled it more than Alphinaud’s clinical eye. Atara could tell that the young elezen would much rather be more of an attacker, but with the current situation demanding her healing focus, she switched to caretaker with no complaint. The paladin found she rather enjoyed the sensation of Alisaie’s healing, even if it weren’t as powerful as others. 

They had little time to look around themselves as the elevator continued its downward motion, so focused on the things trying to kill them that they didn’t get much of a chance to look around. So when they finally finished off the last of the automatons and had a chance to hold still and breathe, it was only then that they realized the elevator had stopped moving, and got to look around. 

“Is that…” Atara started to say, staring at the ‘platform’ the elevator stopped at.

“Bahamut’s claw!” Alisaie finished for her, then stood there in silence. Atara stepped over to her, staying near her side but not reaching out. The au ra could feel the tension and confusion in the younger girl, even if she was doing a remarkable job at keeping the expression from her face. They had come here in search of answers, but only seemed to find more and more questions every ilm they descended. 

The claw and hand was massive. Even if the realization of how large Bahamut had to be for her to have been able to see it even though she was so far away from Eorzea when Dalamud fell, Atara found her mind boggling at the size of it. 

“Gods… That the cavern should open up  _ again _ , even at this depth…” Alisaie murmured, stepping off the elevator and onto the hand. Atara found herself thankful that as Alisaie continued, mostly to herself, that the conversation this time was mostly towards wondering why the land had rapidly regenerated if Bahamut hadn’t returned to aether, rather than puzzling about if her grandfather had failed. 

The paladin turned and moved to sit on one of the ridges of the gargantuan hand, pulling out a cloth and dampening it a bit with some of her water, taking mental note of how much she still had as she used the cloth to wash off some of the dried blood on her arms and face. She watched Alisaie move about the giant hand, listened to the murmuring of the teen as she puzzled at the mysteries of the depths, Atara pausing for a moment as she frowned as a realization came to her.

Her spirits were quiet. 

Up until this point there was a fair bit of ‘background’ noise, the spirits murmuring about things revealed as the pair journeyed, plenty of thought from her Elder spirit at the constant revelations Eorzea provided. Very little concern for their Speaker, her spirits unconcerned with her ability to face the challenges posed. But now, they were silent, waiting. 

Alisaie blinked as she saw Atara stand and draw her sword, tilting her head slightly in confusion as she looked about the otherwise silent platform of the giant hand. The au ra had closed the distance between them in a few long strides, and was standing protectively in front of her. “Atara?”

A draconic screech suddenly ripped through the cavern, echoing sharply off the walls and causing both au ra and elezen to cringe as the sound. A pair of smaller, green wyverns looped around the claws fingers and over head, Alisaie reflexively crouching down lest they hit her with their wings, but Atara stood tall. A louder screech echoed from a bright opening not much further ahead, and a massive wyvern easily double the size of the other two came diving forth. 

The great dragon roared a challenge, white eyes glowing brightly amid it’s red and blue scales, a strange collar of sorts of obvious Alagan technology humming around its neck. Atara cringed, sensing that the creature's ire was not its own. “Gods dammit.” 

Alisaie was cut off from whatever she was going to say in reply as the smaller wyverns swooped down, the air from their wings buffeting the pair as Atara brought up her shield and braced herself. The larger one roared like it was instructing the others, then flew up into the air. Atara did her best to stay in front of Alisaie as the dragons dived in, striking out when she could when one or another got within reach. The larger dragon occasionally threw down swirls of aether that turned into small swirling tornados, tossing dirt and obscuring sight as the pair dodged and moved.

It wasn’t a brutal fight as much as it was a dance, anticipating the movements of the two smaller wyverns to meet them with shield and sword, weakening them with spell, all while avoiding the wider strikes and magic of the largest one. Atara frequently grunted and scowled as if in pain, but whenever Alisaie turned her attention to her to cast a healing spell, she would find nothing significant, frowning in confusion and wanting to ask, but no chance as they fought for their lives, and to not be buffeted off the primal’s hand. 

The two smaller wyverns eventually fell, leaving only the large one and its fury at their dispatchment of its companions. Now the fight took a more brutal turn, from the dance prior to a struggle for dominance. Though she well knew the au ra was not of draconic heritage, Alisaie couldn’t help but make comparisons as the paladin growled and yelled at their attacker, only for the wyvern to reply in kind like two dragons fighting over territory or prey.

“Suppose that makes me the ‘prey’.” Alisaie murmured to herself as she stayed largely out of melee, refreshing her spells that weakened the great dragon and otherwise focusing on healing. Her distance afforded her the chance to somewhat study the contraption around the great wyvern’s neck, calling out that it was a controlling device. 

Atara nodded once at that information, Alisaie expecting the paladin to attempt to break the Alagan device, but to her surprise, did not change her tactics. The au ra stayed on her track of attempting to take the beast down just as much as it was trying to kill the two of them. The elezen supposed that was a choice one had to make in a battle, and she did not doubt the other woman had compassion for the things she had to fight, the angry look on Atara’s face seeming full directed at having to fight rather than at her opponent. 

The fight dragged on, even with the sense of time distorted in the cavern. Both were surprised as the wyvern used the device around its neck as a weapon against them, causing the two to separate too far for Alisaie’s magic to reach Atara, the elezen feeling a spike of fear at the realization. She couldn’t advance closer, the buffeting winds keeping them apart, and could only turn her spells focus onto the dragon instead and hope to end the fight before either of them were terribly injured. 

The wyvern roared in a sound too close to anguish and fear as Atara managed to hit it in a vital location, it faltering enough for the paladin to press the attack. Alisaie lost sight of her companion behind the form of the dragon for a few moments, but as the great dragon roared and fell to the ground with a shuddering crash, the au ra came into view again. Unlike with the snake, she stood there and stared down at the fallen wyvern, just as bloodied as before, but looking as though she were defeated instead of the blue and red beast. Cautiously, Alisaie approached, keeping her distance as she looped around the body, reaching out her senses towards Atara to take stock of her physical state. 

The paladin would need to repair her breastplate, it broken in half and part of it lying on the ground, Atara’s torso home to several significant gashes that Alisaie was quick to soothe as she came up next to the other woman. It wasn’t until the first touch of healing aether that Atara finally looked away from the fallen wyvern, offering Alisaie a weak smile as she sheathed her sword. “We should at least get off this paw.” She lightly spoke, not waiting for an answer or protest from the elezen as she turned and started down the nearest platform. 

Watching her fellow Scion go for a few long moments, Alisaie glanced one last time at the still body held in the palm of the massive hand, her mind likening the sight to an almost tender moment of sire and child. Shaking her head a bit, she turned her steps to follow Atara, heading onward still. They had a goal, afterall.

Atara sighed as Alisaie caught up to her, the elezen muttering a mild curse under her breath. They had completed the scramble down from Bahamut’s hand and the shards of Dalamud that were usefully placed to reach the entry where the wyvern had come from, but were presented with what seemed a dead end. Red Alagan machinery formed a tunnel of sorts that ended with a series of partial pillars arranged in a small arc, the lighting red and lending a sinister air to the place. Atara let Alisaie get in front of her as the younger woman approached the end of the tunnel, paladin silently stepping up behind her as Alisaie started to speak. 

“This contraption… Is it used to control the saturation of aether?” Alisaie mused, looking about. Even Atara could feel the difference in the aether here, it seeming to flow past them and forward. “I suppose there is only one way to find out.” Alisaie continued, shrugging a bit as she stepped up to the machinery, afterall, caution was long thrown to the wind. She reached out with her hand, aether sparking between her hand and the wall of machinery. 

“The dragon from earlier -- doubtless you noticed the collar.” Alisaie quietly noted, Atara nodding and muttering low.

“A controlling device. A slave collar.” Though she spoke softly, Atara’s words held venom at the concept. 

“Ancient Allag possessed the means to control dragons, it would seem. The Ishgardians would kill for this knowledge, though to be sure, it could as easily be brought to bear against them.” Alisaie pondered. “An army of dragons could turn the tide of any battle, as the Garleans once learned to their sorrow. I would not be the least bit surprised if they now sought to exploit this power.”

Atara curled her lip in distaste, her opinion on the subject clear enough she needed no words to explain further. Alisaie continued, finding it soothing to her thoughts to speak them aloud, and though quiet, found the paladin a receptive listener. “Whatever their plans, this serves as another reminder of the might of the Allagans. One cannot help but wonder how so advanced a civilization came to fall.”

A light grumble from the woman at her side signaled that Atara likely had an opinion on that subject, but it remained unspoken as the machinery around them suddenly whirred into action. The sound of large pieces of machinery moving and shifting filled the tunnel, blue lights coming to life as the wall of pillars flickered to action and sank down into the floor. Behind them, a new wall of machines raised up, lightning sparking between gaps as it adjusted and then opened up, revealing a vision entirely different from where they had just come from.

“Gods be good…” Alisaie murmured as her mouth fell open in surprise, Atara making a likewise shocked expression as the sight was revealed before them. “This is...this is Bahamut’s head!”

Just as massive as every other piece of the primal they had come across, Bahamut’s head and neck lay against what looked to possibly finally be the base of the giant chasm. Three pieces of Alagan machinery pulsed with aether and magic as beams of flickering light reached out to the great head, aether flowing into the remains of the dragon. Below it’s neck, a giant crystal pulsed slowly. 

“And that enormous crystal -- it pulsates as if...as if it were a heart! Then the primal that had awakened...was Bahamut all this time!?” Alisaie’s voice broke some as she stepped to the edge of the platform they stood on. “No! No, no,  _ NO _ ! This cannot be true! This..this would mean that Grandfather died for naught!” 

Atara stepped closer to Alisaie, her hand flexing at her side as she fought to keep from reaching out, letting the elezen process what she was seeing. Both of them looked towards the primal dragon’s head as a low growl sounded through the cavern, Alisaie turning towards Atara. “Confound it! We do not know enough to strike at it now! We must withdraw!” She started towards the paladin, but movement further into the chamber caught her eye, she looking back again.

“Who…? Who is that?” She started, Atara moving up closer as she felt the hairs at the back of her neck standing on end, Atara’s spirits impressing the sense of wrongness on her again that they had at the start of their journey. “No...it can’t be..” Alisaie continued. 

Some distance down the machinery ahead, two figures seemed engaged in conversation, but were too far for any of the words to reach them. One figure looked to be dressed in Garlean military gear, but the other...Atara gasped softly, recognizing the figure from paintings within Scion headquarters. 

“Grandfather? Is it truly you?” Alisaie called out, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared. 

The figure of Louisoix Leveilleur paused and turned, offering a faint almost smile before he spoke more unheard words before turning away as Alisaie ran some distance down the ramp, pausing as he began to walk away from them. “No..don’t leave me again...please..” She quietly pleaded, then yelled out. “Grandfather!!!”

Eyes on the head of the gargantuan primal, Atara came up behind Alisaie again, still not reaching for her but tensed to do so if needed. She relaxed a beat as Alisaie spoke.

“I-I know… We can do no more for now…” Alisaie’s expression faltered a moment before steadying, sorrow lingering in her eyes that caused a pang in Atara’s chest. 

“Aye, let us regroup...speak with Urianger.” Atara gently urged, holding her hand out. “The aether is focused enough here that I think we can teleport..”

Alisaie did not take Atara’s hand, but nodded as she stepped closer to the paladin. “I think so...at least we can go ‘up’, return to the surface. Then its just a matter of getting out of the Castrum again.” 

The au ra smiled, exposing one fang. “After our exceedingly long day, I have no concerns with being able to take care of a few Garleans if we have to.” The quip brought a light smile to the elezen’s features. 

“Indeed. Stay close, please, I’ll bring us out.” Alisaie nodded as Atara moved to her shoulder, the elezen calling on the familiar teleportation magic. 

The sudden pressure shift from being so far underground to being on the surface again briefly brought Atara down to a knee, making a sound of confusion as she looked up and her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the night. Alisaie stepped forward, echoing the confusion. “Hm? But this looks like…How did we come to be in northern Thanalan of all places?”

Atara idly thought that the distance they traveled would suggest they had possibly come this far, only underground, but was cut off from saying it as Alisaie brightened. “Oh, but such details matter little! Grandfather’s alive, Atara! Bahamut did  _ not _ defeat him! But why won’t he return to us? I don’t understand…”

‘Nevermind the five years underground yet managing to find enough to survive…’ Atara thought to herself as Alisaie looked down to the ground, lost in her own thoughts. The elezen made a frustrated sound. “This expedition has revealed more questions than answers.” She sighed, her eyes turning towards the nearby Ceruleum Processing Plant and Ul’dahan camp there. “Let us get some rest, then journey to the Waking Sands. Perhaps Urianger can help make sense of all this.”

Atara nodded as she jumped down off of the stone they had found themselves on, turning to wait for Alisaie. “A bath and a long rest sound lovely. At least in Thanalan it won’t be as long of a journey back to Vesper Bay, we can rent chocobos here and cut that particular travel down.”

Alisaie carefully slid down the side of the rock, taking Atara’s held out hand to stand again. “Ah, yes, Papalymo said at one point that you were unfond of teleportation.” She grinned at the look of distaste on the paladin’s face. 

“That is a kind way of saying it. It disrupts my Elder guide and I simply do not like the feeling.” Atara replied, starting to walk towards the visible settlement in the distance. “You may if you wish, and I’ll catch up?”

The au ra tilted her head a little at the thoughtful sound from Alisaie in reply, glancing over to the teenager as she shrugged and smiled. “I think traveling with you will be a good chance to organize my thoughts over our little dive underground. Though there is an obvious urgency, what with it being Bahamut that awakened…” She instinctively lowered her voice. “We’d best not speak of that too loudly, there are too many ears listening in these lands.” 

A sound of agreement as Atara stretched her arms up over her head. “Indeed. Let us instead talk about our well earned baths and the food we’ll have once we reach the camp!” Her eyes shone with a smile, and Alisaie couldn’t help but return it. 

“Indeed. Thank you, Atara, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you. You had no other reason than Urianger saying he knew me to trust me, but you did, and I am grateful.” Alisaie spoke with an earnest tone, stopping when Atara did, the two looking to each other. Alisaie felt a tinge of almost nervousness inside, the sudden thought that the paladin might decide to stop aiding her, sending a greater spike of concern through her than she anticipated. 

Atara smiled warmly, reaching out and patting the slightly shorter woman’s shoulder. “Bah, you don’t need to thank me. I...well I’d be happy to continue to assist.” She managed to keep the odd sensation in her chest from reaching her face, smiling warmly and shrugging a little. “But enough talk, let's go get those baths.” She turned on her heel, marching towards the Ceruleum Plant with purpose, Alisaie laughing softly as she followed. 


	15. Equal Quality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SFW. Quality can be found in the most worn down of markets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the time between updates, life is crazy for everybody right now. Thank you for continuing to read!

The journey back to the Waking Sands was filled with musing and vague allusions to things seen, the two still careful of saying anything specific even as they traveled. The magnitude of what they uncovered called for the utmost care, and Atara quietly marveled at the teenager’s ability to handle the scope of what it was they now knew. Though, she did have to wonder if her thoughts were more personal in nature, rather than on thinking about what sort of impact the knowledge of Bahamut's slow regeneration would have on the realm. She opted to not probe to find out, deciding that was an appropriate burden for herself to carry. 

They wasted no time in cornering Urianger upon returning to Vesper Bay, claiming the solar and it’s greater magical protections for the conversation. Urianger showed the first bit of intense emotion that the au ra could consider ever having seen on him when they told him first of Bahamut, and then the possibility of his beloved Masters survival, the tall elezen sitting down in a mix of shock and surprise. Much to the paladin’s relief, however, the Archon was significantly more reluctant to fully trust that it was actually Louisoux, cautioning Alisaie against undue risk. They reasoned that the other machines they had seen regenerating Bahamut were likely attached to some of the other large fragments of Dalamud, and advised that they begin surveying the ones that they could for other entries into the cavern. 

The talk of finding allies rose; though the two had handled the threats they first encountered, it stood to reason that the Allagan machines were now ‘informed’ of their skills and things may be more difficult. After Atara noted the greater chance of the secret being broken the more pieces were in play, it was decided they would continue as a duo as far as possible. Alisaie assured that she had the means of investigating the other fragments, Urianger was going to continue his research and observations of measurements of aether, which left Atara with the task of provisioning for the next leg of the exploration. 

As she walked through the stalls in Ul’dah she realized she had little idea of what actually to get for provisions. Things had proven so odd on the first leg of their journey she had no idea if this would be similar, or an entirely different world altogether, and her pack would only hold so much. The au ra sighed. The basics, then. She paused, looking down the alley of stalls and the bustle of people. The wares were certainly high quality in Ul’dah, there was little question of that, but she felt the sudden sting of frustration as her eyes caught sight of a pair of Brass Blades leading a refugee merchant from where she had tried to set up in a dark corner. No one else watched as one bodily pulled the woman along by one arm, the other dragging her meager offerings behind him with the blanket she had set herself on. Her tail twitched behind her, and eyes narrowed. The Blades were well within their right to remove her, she knew that one needed a proper set of paperwork to sell in the Exchange, but their lack of compassion caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand. 

She felt herself moving before she even entirely willed it, weaving through the crowd to where a few of the scattered sales items lay on the ground, crouching down to pick up a coil of hand woven rope. A brow arched as she noted the quality of the weave, even if the material wasn’t of the highest caliber, the skill of the maker made up for the reagents shortcomings. A fallen bolt of cloth was the same, exceptional skill with the most humble of materials. With a light noise and nod of her head, Atara gathered up the fallen wares and stood, striding towards where the Blades had taken the woman.

“Naturally they take the longest path past the most people for the greatest humiliation.” Atara muttered under her breath as she walked from the exchange, going past the chocobo stabler and the Adventurer’s Guild, two of the more bustling parts of the outer ring of Ul’dah aside from the market. She picked up a few scattered pieces of wares, supposing that the goal was likely to cause the ‘illegal’ merchant to lose everything, the paladin with a significant armful of simple goods by the time she made it to the gate. As expected, the two Blades were sauntering in looked proud of themselves for the ‘job well done’, laughing at the plight of the refugee put back in ‘her place’. 

Her hand tightened on the piece of rope she was holding, she not sparing the guards even a glance as she walked from the city.

The light was fading, the torches by the city gate only illuminating so far out into the hard ground, but the refugee merchant was easy to find. She sat in a heap at the side of the road, her blanket ripped and tossed over a nearby stone, a few pieces of her goods scattered nearby. Atara’s eyes settled on a broken basket, stepped on and crushed. The woman, a hyur highlander likely from Ala Mhigo, jet black hair and deep tanned skin, looked utterly broken, staring down at her hands in her lap. The Xaela paladin suppressed the urge to growl, shooting a scowl at one of the nearby guards who was chuckling at the misfortune of the refugee, feeling a little bit of smugness as he straightened and silenced himself, his eyes widening below his helm as he realized who the adventurer was. 

Her expression softened as she walked up to the fallen woman, crouching down in front of her, just a short distance away. “Are you alright?” She asked softly, her eyes noting the fresh cut on the merchants cheek and forming bruises mostly hidden by the low light. The voice nearby startled her from whatever thoughts she was lost in, wide blue eyes blinking at the woman in front of her. 

“I...yes, of course, it was foolish of me to try to sell in the markets without a permit.” She answered, rubbing her hand over her cheek and smearing some of the blood from the cut. “Please, don’t concern yourself with me, miss.” 

Atara smiled lightly as she reached over for the discarded blanket, setting it between her and the other woman before she set down the collected wares. “I’m not sure if I got everything that was fallen aside, but hopefully this is something. What is your name?”

Those blue eyes widened as Atara returned a significant portion of her wares, the hyur’s mouth opening in a wordless expression. She blinked at the question, shaking her head slightly as she gingerly reached out for her wares. “I..you...uhm.” She shook her head slightly, her shoulders straightening a bit, Atara noting that bit of Ala Mighan fire returning to her eyes. “Sela. Sela Reeve. Thank you, m’lady, for returning my wares. I usually sell them out here but…”

“The quality deserves to be sold within the city.” Atara noted, looking back down to the rope she first picked up, lightly running a thumb over it. “I would like to buy this rope, and that folded cloth, if it’s large like a piece of awning, it seems to be.” 

Sela blankly watched Atara as she spoke, then shook her head some and blinked a few times as she started to gather the discarded bits back together on her blanket. “I, no, you should just take it, you were so kind to bring me everything.” 

Atara smiled and shook her head. “I insist. Look at me, I’m a free paladin, an adventurer. I know quality provisions when I see them. This rope may not be made of the greatest materials, but the way the weave flows together more than makes up for that, and since I’m going to be trusting said rope to not drop me down a pit, I need something that’s good.” She hmmed lightly as she peered at the folded bolt of cloth again. “And while I’ve no need for a full tent on this next duty of mine, a good bit of sturdy cloth for ground cover would be wise, at the very least. But come, we should get off the side of the road, where do you usually setup?” The au ra stood and held out a hand to help Sela stand, smiling as the hyur took it and let herself be helped up, Atara unsurprised to find herself shorter than the other woman once she was back on her feet. 

“If..if you really are sure.” Sela still seemed highly wary as she gathered up the blanket and what goods she had left. “I really do feel you should just take..”

“No. No more of that, you will get a fair price for the value this has.” Atara lightly nudged the woman with her elbow as she gestured for her to lead the way. Sela huffed lightly and nodded, leading the way over towards Stonesthrow and the makeshift market the refugees had set up in the shade of the city walls. 

“Sela!” Another hyur called out, hurrying towards the two as she spied their approach. She was younger and smaller, but Atara noted clear family traits between the two, especially in their blue eyes and dark hair. Her steps were excited as she came towards them, the paladin also noting the significant limp she moved with. “How did you...oh.” Her bright expression fell as she noted the blood on Sela’s cheek. 

The older woman shook her head and gave the girl a small smile. “As expected, regretfully, but this free paladin was good enough to gather my wares and help. Did you keep our stand together like I told you to?”

The teen peered at Atara, her eyes widening some as she noted the au ra’s standout traits. “Oh wow, you’re an au ra, I’ve never seen..” She quickly blinked and then blushed darkly, Atara unable to keep from laughing softly. “Ah, uhm, yes Sela, I kept our stand, though Jarol kept sayin he was gonna take it, but I poked him with my staff an kept him away.”

Sela sighed lightly and nodded, holding a hand out to the teen. “Good. Thank you. Now I want you to go to our tent and get me those extra pieces of rope and that pack you finished, okay? Bring them to our spot.” The younger girl looked wide eyed between Sela and Atara, then nodded and quickly hobbled back towards the tents. Sela sighed with relief as she continued to talk, coming up on a stand at the edge of the small market that was otherwise bare, setting her blanket down on top of it. “I wanted to give you some option in the rope, I left the longer lengths here...I...I didn’t get your name?” She turned to look to Atara as the paladin opened a pouch and reached in.

“Hmm? Oh, my apologies. My name is Atara.” She internally braced a bit, jaw tightening a little. 

“...you jest.” Sela reacted how the au ra expected, and Atara smiled lightly. 

“I jest not, but as your...sister?..said, not many au ra around. Promise Im the one named Atara some people know.” She opened the smaller pouch she had retrieved. “I’ll actually take whatever lengths of rope she returns with, I did not like having to drop as far as I did last time my rope proved too short..” Atara did her best to behave as if this was a normal transaction, as far as she was concerned it was, ignoring the looks and obvious talking that others in the area were starting. The younger girl returned, a bit out of breath from hurrying, setting the requested rope and pack on the table of the stall, then somewhat openly stared at the dark scaled woman. 

Atara was used to that sort of look, too. She paid no mind as she picked up one of the other rope coils, nodding as the quality met the first. “Aye, I will take this one as well, and the bolt of linen.” She started to count out gil onto the table. 

The two hyur exchanged looks again, unspoken confusion and uncertainty thick in the air, before Sela seemed to resolve to treat this as normal as Atara was attempting to. “The shorter rope is five hundred gil and the longer, about double the length, is a thousand. The bolt is five hundred, and please, take this pack for them, I _insist_ you allow me this small thanks.” 

Atara smiled as she counted out three thousand gil, nodding some as she pushed the money towards Sela. “Three thousand gil it is, and not a piece less. You undervalue the quality. I will take that pack, though. Give my companion something to carry, she got away with hauling little last time we set out.” The teen giggled and Atara smiled just a bit wider, brow arched slightly as she met Sela’s eyes and the two had a silent battle of wills over if the amount of gil was too much. 

Sela blinked rapidly after a moment to chase away the tears threatening there, nodding and making a bit of a gruff sound as she took the offered gil, sliding it to the teen before she bundled the rope together into the pack, holding it out to Atara. “Thank you for your custom, Atara.”

“Thank you for the quality. I’ll look for you when I am next in need of supplies, and you can be certain I will suggest to fellow adventurers to stop out here when looking for goods as well.” Atara was already formulating what words she could use to express the honestly good quality she had found in urging others to take their business to the refugees. She suspected she was going to be buying a fair bit of drinks in the Quicksand this eve. ‘And likely owe Raubhan a heads up of my intention so he can delay any suggestion of making the refugees obtain pricey ‘permits’ to sell even outside.’ she thought to herself.

Unable to trust her voice further, Sela nodded and bowed slightly, the teen offering a smile and wave as Atara waved and turned to walk back into the city, her new goods secured in the pack on her shoulder.

  
  
  
  



	16. Unwelcome Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to not see the truth, it forces us to see it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so sorry for the length of this chapter, but there's so much that happens during this part of Coils that it crept bigger and bigger. Copious yoinking of cut scene dialogue. Thank you for your patience and for reading!

Alisaie had sent word to meet her in the North Shroud, believing that her sources had found a way into the fragment of Dalamud there. According to Alisaie, and anyone native to the region, the area of Dalamud’s shadow had been the greatest change to the Black Shroud, the massive piece of Bahamut’s prison opening up a chasm and destroying a large swath of the ancient forest. No grasses or plants grew, only jagged remnants of trees occasionally stubbornly clinging to the now floating rocks. Golems wandered about, powered by Gods only knew what. Finding herself having arrived first to Fallgourd Float, Atara stood at the edge of the settlement and observed where they would soon be going. 

“Ah, good, I was hoping to find you alone.” A voice spoke from behind the paladin, and she turned, brow arching as she found not Alisaie, but her brother Alphinaud. He smiled at her surprise. “Forgive my bluntness, but I’ve a request of you as a friend and fellow Scion that needs must be made before my sister arrives.”

Atara’s brow stayed arched as she lightly crossed her arms over her stomach, smiling lightly. She had far more experience with Alisaie at this point than Alphinaud, but his vocal presence with the Scions made him well known to her either way. “I imagine this must be a secretive request that I’d best not tell her of.”

Alphinaud cleared his throat a little and smiled, shrugging lightly. “Indeed, she would not take kindly to know of any sort of intervention on my part. But I do not wish to interfere, simply beg of you to protect her, and help her find her purpose. You and I may not have interacted as much, but...I can tell that Alisaie trusts you, and I hope for her to find in you a guide like I have in another...” 

The inclusion of ‘another’ in that phrasing caused Atara’s brows to quirk, again, but she didn’t press, smiling and offering a light bow. “It is of little issue to take you into the same promise made to Urianger, with your additional little caveat. I will do my best.”

Alphinaud’s shoulders shifted with some obvious relief that only made the au ra paladin smile a bit more as he nodded and quickly took his leave, reiterating that he didn’t want Alisaie to know that he was there and getting another promise from the woman to keep it quiet. His timing was good, Alisaie arriving shortly thereafter and none the wiser. After a bit of conversation with her contact at the Float, the pair stuck out towards their goal. 

Unlike the places where Dalamud had stabbed into the ground elsewhere, there was no obvious sign of corruption, other than the floating islands. That was, until they pushed through what felt like a thick curtain of heavy air that stole the breath from the duo as they stepped out onto one of the larger stones. Passing through the veil, they beheld the corrupted crystals they had learned to expect at the other scarred places, the sky seeming to vibrate with a static as the orange crystals pulsed with light. It was the first time Atara could consider actually seeing aether in its more flow like state, the sense of being underwater was strong. Alisaie mused about the task at hand and the hidden nature of the corruption so close to the heart of the Shroud, but Atara’s attention was focused on the only obvious bit of plant life, a massive flower laid across the stone nearest to the point they thought was their best chance at entry. Dimly, she registered Alisaie’s desire to stop Bahamut’s regeneration, coupled with her continued hope at rescuing her grandfather, glancing to the young elezen and nodding. 

The obvious plant was as the paladin expected. That it had managed to survive in such close proximity to such corrupted aether suggested it to be of an aggressive nature, and she was right. Thankfully it was similar to other aggressive plants in the Twelveswood, only on a massive scale, but fighting it was little different. Alisaie was quick to cure the poison it attempted to cripple Atara with, letting her cut down it’s vital parts and send the massive thing crashing to the ground and leave the path forward clear. 

Though their last foray underground had begun surrounded by Garlean building and tech, the first steps into the fragment were nothing but Allagan, blue and golden at this point instead of red. This made the figure in Garlean armor stand out all the more when they came into sight at the end of the first long corredor they opened the way into. Atara didn’t yet pull her sword, but stepped slightly in front of Alisaie, who made a sound of surprise.

“That armor... No, it couldn’t be!” Alisaie startled, scowling and nearly spitting out her obvious contempt for the former legatus of the VIIth. 

Distantly, Atara wondered why seeing Nael van Darnus, the White Raven, orchestrator of the Meteor project, would cause Alisaie disbelief, when the girl was certain her grandfather still walked the realm, but she let the thought go as she focused on the arrogant Garlean in front of them. While Alisaie had a small tinge of worry in her voice below the distaste at seeing the legatus, Atara’s spirits expressed a different sort of concern to the au ra, though it could be little expressed beyond ‘off’. When Nael, or the one who looked like Nael, expressed confusion at being addressed as such, that sense of ‘off’ only grew, Atara’s brow furrowing. 

“Out of love for His loyal servant, the one true deity named me Nael deus Darnus.” the armored figure spoke, sketching a deep bow. The flash of red light in the Garlean’s eyes caught both women by surprise, Alisaie taking a step back as the sight of obvious tempering became clear. 

“The ‘one true deity’? Bahamut! He speaks of Bahamut!” Alisaie gasped.

“O Lord Bahamut! Thy name is as sweet water to parched lips! How my heart swells at Thy sacred touch!” Nael all but exclaimed, gesturing about with a significant touch of madness. That a Garlean should fall under the thrall of a Primal was not an irony lost on the duo. “This blessed sanctum is the domain of my god and His beloved children. Seek to defile its glory, and you will answer to me.” Nael threatened as a great door opened to expose further within, then simply fell backwards into the cavernous opening.

Atara and Alisaie hurried forward, peering down at the empty platform visible beyond, Alisaie making a frustrated sound. “How is this possible? From what Alphinaud has told me, Nael was slain on the eve of the Calamity.” She sighed, straightening up from where she had crouched to peer beyond. “Whatever the truth of the matter, we must be on our guard. There can be no reasoning with the worshipers of a primal.” 

Glancing aside at the teenager, Atara simply nodded. She knew her thoughts included the possibility that Alisaie was all but ignoring, but it would do no good to voice it before evidence. Best to focus on obvious problems at hand. After a bit of conversation about how they anticipated being able to leave this Dalamud fragment, tinged with a bit more concern regarding the thick corruption in the literal air, they decided that it would be best to be positive about the outcome and that they’d be able to teleport out like the time prior once they disabled the regenerating machinery, leaving no need to attempt to follow back their path. So instead of utilizing rope, Atara and Alisaie simply jumped down to the platform below and cautiously began on the way. 

  
Chimeric creatures filled the azure-lit passages, far fewer mechanical constructs than the last struggle. Atara was both grateful, as this meant that the machines weren’t learning more about her strengths, and dismayed, since it was more upsetting to fight the naga and other beings. Since their fight with the controlled dragon prior, Atara couldn’t trust that the creatures she faced were fighting her out of their own will or from some corrupted desire, her spirits soothing her with the reminder that defeating her foes would give them a measure of peace. Her distaste for snakes was only compounded by the naga womens presence, and the great guardian before the lift further into the coil only made it all the worse. Like the others, however, she fell. 

Atara found herself glad the platform descended slowly, and unlike the last elevator they were on, no flood of machines threatened to overwhelm them. Alisaie took the opportunity to bandage a few of the more minor wounds the paladin suffered at Atara’s insistence that she conserve her energy. Alisaie raised a brow at noting some of the scars on Atara’s shield arm as the paladin removed a bit of her armor to let said bandaging happen.

“What, did you not use a shield at first or something?” Alisaie remarked, lightly stroking her fingertips over the au ra’s bicep, lingering a moment before she pulled away to tend to the cut on her lower arm, Atara missing the touch of color at the elezen’s cheeks.

Atara laughed and shook her head. “No, no, I was just kind of...bad at it at first. I’d deflect blows right up into my own arm instead of away until I got it better. Mylla said it was from being used to attacking my targets rather than, you know, blocking.”

“Ah, right, your lancer experience.” 

“Mmhmm. Since the scars are superficial and skin deep at worst, I purposely avoided magical healing so the scar would stay and be a reminder to me. The wounds weren’t bad enough to hinder movement, so I was allowed to get away with it.” Atara grinned a little crookedly as she refastened her pauldron once the bandage was secure.

Alisaie smiled back. “I noticed how different you move from other paladins and gladiators. You’re like a blend of paladin and warrior, pressing the attack just as much as you deflect it.” Her smile grew a bit as Atara’s cheeks colored with a blush. 

The two fell silent as the platform continued downward, Alisaie estimating that they were several thousand yalms down not unlike their prior trip into the underground. Behind them stretched evidence of the maze of passages they had managed to avoid getting lost in, Alisaie remarking on just how many creatures must prowl the hallways as recordings stated the surface of Dalamud positively seethed with creatures designed to stop any who would free the trapped Primal. Atara mildly wrinkled her nose at seeing the machinery ahead, wondering to herself if any changes came over these orbs like the ones that had learned of her techniques prior, if the machines communicated in some sort of fashion. She further wondered if she herself had grown in skill as they fell one by one as they attempted to navigate the maze of passages. She supposed she must have, afterall she had learned about them as much as they her. The four armed, oddly domed headed machine that greeted them further in was something of a puzzle, however, she not having seen anything of its like before. This lead to her getting battered about a bit more than she would have appreciated, but it was quickly determined that it was vital for the paladin to crack the armor of its body, to let Alisaie’s spells find purchase and weaken and corrupt. Soon, it too crashed to the ground with a thunderous sound that echoed off the strange Allagan walls, sparks and smoke rising from it.

The pair took little chance to rest, intent upon pressing inward. They did not expect the site that lay before them as the platform dropped out of the shaft it was descending. A vast aerial landscape stretched out before them, floating platforms forming what to Atara’s eyes seemed a battlefield. In the distance hung what looked to be Dalamud, it’s presence casting a red light over them like the confusion that flowed over them both.

“That...that surely cannot be Dalamud!? How… Where are we!?” Alisaie exclaimed, looking around with wide eyes. 

A voice spoke from where previously it was empty. “The final resting place of Nael van Darnus. This is a grave for the undeserving.” Nael deus Darnus spoke, walking out onto the platform with the pair. Red eyes flared with light. “And for the crime of trespassing upon my god’s sanctuary, this place shall serve as your grave too!” The legatus reached arms out as if in offering, a red light like flames beginning to rise.

“No!” Alisaie shouted out, drawing her tome and quickly casting a spell, sending the legatus’ helmet flying. Further confusion hit as the ‘white raven’ lowered their gaze to them, revealing not the expected face, but that of a woman, third eye bright on her forehead. 

“In the hour of his failure, Nael van Darnus felt the currents of aether begin to bear away his essence. But before oblivion could claim the last of him, a divine will reached out...and I was born.” Nael deus Darnus spoke, voice much clearer without the distortion of the helm. “Then did the words of my god resound in mine ears…’Bring unto mine enemies crushing defeat, that they might know despair without end! And claim thee thus the victory which thou were once denied!’” 

She leaned forward, the red flames coallessing at her back and brightening with a yellow flared light. Shortly she was obstructed from view as a dome of yellow light surrounded her as she physically changed, calling upon the ‘blessing’ of her Primal god. When the light cleared she had become something of a chimera herself, granted draconic features and form, though still retaining enough of her own to be recognized. Atara stepped in front of Alisaie some, her shoulders squared. 

“...’Twould seem that little remained of Nael’s essence when Bahamut plucked him from the brink of oblivion. And the result was this strange...simulacrum. Nevertheless, her aura bespeaks great power. She channels the rage of the elder primal himself…” Alisaie cautioned, teeth worrying a bit at her lower lip.

“Lord Bahamut! Thy wish is my command! None shall ‘scape Thine unquenchable fury!” Nael roared into the air. “Come, ye dull, unthinking beasts….bare your teeth! They will avail you naught in the calamity to come!” 

The ‘beast’ slur caused the proud Xaela to bristle internally, Atara’s eyes lighting with a fire. How many times had she been called such by people ignorant of hers since leaving her clan? Too many to recall. How often was the term ‘beast’ or ‘heretic’ or ‘monster’ thrown at her by people she strove to protect and assist? How many would agree with the screeched words from the creature that stood in her way, that sought to prevent her from saving those very people who thought her less because of her scales and horns? The paladin straightened her shoulders, stepping forward with quiet confidence. From the corner of her eye, she saw Alisaie nod and step back a distance, preparing her book.

The White Raven formed a lance in her hand, scowling at the paladin as a calm came over the au ra. Though the words stung and pricked at her mind, she knew her path was the right one, that her deeds, though they may go unappreciated, were for the realm. For Hydaelyn. For Alisaie and the Scions, those who did not judge her by anything more than her deeds. She would fulfill her promise to Alphinaud and Urianger. 

The paladin drew her sword and shield and settled into her stance, smirking at the hovering thrall. “Come then, Darnus. Let us finish this.”

The fight was brutal, as expected. As they fought, the scene around them changed, as if they were fighting in the air above Cartneau and descending slow with Dalamud. Ice and fire streaked across the stone platform, Atara quickly learning that to soothe the pain of one element meant to subject herself to the other, the two countering each other well enough to prevent major injury. Meteors fell from the sky, giving only brief note of their approach, the barest window of time for she or Alisaie to dodge away from the impact. Time and again Nael would dive down from the sky, trying to spear the paladin on her lance and hitting the ground with a shuddering impact, but rarely did she hit, though the waves from the impact itself would strike the paladin full force. 

Atara felt herself growing weary as the fight dragged on. Alisaie was focused on healing with only occasional casts of hopefully weakening spells at the thrall, but intent on keeping the paladin on her feet. What seemed to be pieces of Dalamud speared into the platform, sending out waves of fiery energy that threatened to sear flesh from bone, each of the two women able to feel the heat of it as they dodged just out of the way, avoiding the strikes. By this point, they seemed on the ground at Cartneau, scattered and broken weaponry, magitech, fallen banners. There was no time to take in their surroundings and the reality of them, powerful strikes from Atara starting to wear at Nael as much as the enthralled woman was her.

Mercaadians, dragons, came to Nael’s call, adding to the chaos of the battlefield. Atara felt their presence seeming to strangle the air around her, Alisaie making a similar choked sound as the paladin was forced to focus on the dragons rather than Nael, striking them down as quickly as possible, feeling the flames from them threaten even moreso than before. The tiniest thought in the back of her mind imagined this to be like the way the Alliance armies felt on the battlefield that fateful day.

The fires only grew as Nael grew desperate. In and out Atara and Alisaie dodged, away from thunder and fire, away from wild strikes of the lance. Atara saw her openings grow and took them, her blade slicing through flesh and bone now, though she risked the same as the lance strikes broke free some of her armor, blood blooming on the leathers she wore below. More dragons, more fire. 

Atara couldn’t muffle the cry of pain that tore from her throat as she was hit with the brunt of one of the streams of flame that seared over her leg and hip, staggering her with pain. Nael thought she saw opportunity, and dove in, spear at the ready to skewer the au ra where she knelt on one knee. Her lancer background came to her aid, however, she still having enough strength in her other leg to lunge herself forward and to the side, the lance slicing over top of her sword arm as she stabbed forward and straight through the winged thrall’s gut.

Abruptly all sound on the ‘battlefield’ stopped. The White Raven staggered back, limbs flailing as she cried out to the sky, reaching for the glowing orb of Dalamud above just before she collapsed to the ground. 

The au ra staggered back, falling to one knee as she sheathed her shield to her shoulders, letting her sword lay on the ground as the landscape shifted to reveal Allagan machinery around them, the battlefield prior nothing but an illusion. Atara grimaced and clenched her jaw as she reached for the remains of the ruined armor on her leg, tossing it aside and exposing the significant burn on her thigh. Alisaie hurried over, crouching to inspect the wound and others the paladin suffered. “I can tell you now that it is going to scar, I’m afraid...we’ve not the luxury of time to heal it slow enough to not.” Alisaie gave Atara an apologetic smile as she cast her healing spells on the other cuts and wounds first to give the woman some relief.

Atara shakily laughed, leaning one hand down on the ground to support herself. “Ah, just a souvenir of our time together, is all.” She teased, lifting her eyes to the elezen to give her a reassuring smile. “Don’t fret. I don’t mind a scar.”

Alisaie smiled, about to start to cast her magics again when the sound of scuffled metal armor on stone drew their gazes, both making a surprised sound as the ‘normal’ form of Nael deus Darnus staggered towards them. Black smoke like wisps rose from her, the telltale signs of fading life and aether. Alisaie grimaced. “Poor creature. Would that you had never been born.”

The paladin reached a hand out to rest lightly on Alisaie’s elbow, keeping the elezen slightly behind her as she continued to speak. “You had surrendered your physical form, and collapsed into aether… But Bahamut denied you death, and imprisoned what little was left of you in an aetherial shell resembling...what, I wonder? Images from your memory, perhaps?” Alisaie reached to lightly rest her fingertips on the back of Atara’s hand soothingly, sensing no danger from the staggering form. 

“But that shell is now broken. And your primal deity seems disinclined to sustain your existence.” Alisaie quietly remarked, pity in her tone.

“My ‘primal deity’? I kneel to no eikon! What need have I to beg the favor of such filth!?” Nael countered. “I am Nael van Darnus! Legatus of the VIIth Legion…” The Garlean scowled at Alisaie, but then paused, blinking. “No...A moment...My thoughts are clouded...and this body is not mine own. Could it be that you spoke the truth? Was I ensorcelled by the lesser moon’s ancient prisoner? ...That will not happen again.”

“You speak as if Bahamut no longer controlled you! But that’s impossible! Once a primal ensnares a mind, it cannot be freed!” Alisaie replied, startled by the sudden clarity and response from the former legatus. “Unless… Unless Bahamut simply relinquished his claim. What need has he of a broken spirit bound for the aetherial realm?”

“Ohhh...that I should fall prey to the very influence I sought to purge from the land. The irony is galling.” Nael dryly commented as she staggered some. Atara couldn’t help but smirk as it was finally noted out loud, the paladin watching the spirit with a wary eye from where she was knelt and somewhat vulnerable on her own part. “But do not assume that all of my actions were chosen for me.” Nael continued. “It was _my_ will that the Meteor project be resurrected - mine and none other.” 

An almost calm look came over Nael’s features. “Yet it seems that my grand designs were destined to fail. Even the ungentle release of death was denied me…” 

Alisaie straightened up, but stayed slightly behind Atara. “Nael, please. You must tell us more of the Calamity. I must know the truth of what has befallen the world...and what has become of my grandfather, Archon Louisoix.”

“You are Louisoix’s grandchild? Ah, the fates are generous with their cruelty.” Nael’s expression realized the irony of it all yet again. “Continue on, if you would have your answers--they await you at the terminus of your path. But know that this path leads only to despair. The light of truth was ever harsh and unforgiving…” 

“Why do you say this? Grandfather will be freed once we put a stop to Bahamut’s restoration, will he not? What are you not telling us!?” Alisaie took a step forward, Atara startling some at the emotion and passion in the young woman's voice.

Nael stood silent for a moment, frowning some as she looked to Alisaie. Atara quietly noted the almost kindness in the words that came next. “Steel yourself, child. Only unbending resolve and merciless strength can conquer what lies ahead.” Alisaie rolled her eyes at the Garlean insistence on strength. “The weak can do naught but weep under the pall of their own misery. As did the frail child I once was…” Her expression softened then, she looking like she was to say something further.

But no chance to do so came. A blinding flash of light struck from above as a lance of pure light struck through Nael, throwing her form back into a mimickry of the transformation pose from before, the lance speared through. Atara lurched forward, hissing at the pain that jolted through her body as she put herself more in front of Alisaie, her eyes searching for the source of the spear. 

A voice from above. “Silence, chattering raven. Your wretched wings are broken, and you shall soar no more.” 

Nael lowered her hands, only to raise one up to the sky again, her voice strained. “My crimson moon… Your brilliance sears mine eyes…” A pillar of light enveloped her, and then, she was gone.

Silence fell on them again. Alisaie stepped forward, crouching down and resting her hand on Atara’s shoulder, her voice shaken as she spoke. “I recognize that voice, Atara. But never would he say such words…” She began to focus her healing on the burn wound. “Come, let us finish what we came to do. All will be put aright when the final hulk lies dormant. Grandfather will be himself again...I’m sure of it.”

They fell silent. Atara’s breathing softened as the pain in her leg lessened, the burn deep enough it took Alisaie some time to tend to it even though she was already going faster than one may normally. The au ra gradually shifted to a more relaxed stance as strength returned to the injured limb, but she quietly hoped this was the last bit of their journey for the time being. Eventually, she waved off Alisaie’s attentions and put her weight on it, satisfied with the healing and starting to lead the way to what they hoped was the center, limping some as she went. 

Alisaie did not keep back the light sigh that escaped her when they beheld Bahamut again, further regenerated from before, wings and torso visible, now. She contemplated the Allagan console in front of them, musing that she should be able to work it well enough like the one they found in La Noscea. Atara nodded as Alisaie stepped forward, tilting her head a bit when the elezen paused. 

“...Atara, forgive me. The moment I beheld Nael’s transformation, hope wilted in my heart. I did not believe you could stand against the manifestation of Bahamut’s power. For all your fabled strength and skill, I felt certain then that I was going to lose you--just as I lost my grandfather. Even he, a man for whom naught seemed impossible, was humbled before Bahamut’s might.”

Atara felt some color rise to her cheeks as Alisaie spoke, then turned to look to her. The paladin was not used to hearing praise, even though the Scions were quick to give it, much more used to people brushing off her exploits as luck. 

Alisaie smiled. “And yet, look how far we have come. ‘Tis incredible the feats of which we are capable -- our boundless potential. ‘Twas this capacity for greatness, I believe, that Grandfather so dearly wished to protect. With all that has occurred, I have come to understand that much at least.” The paladin smiled and nodded lightly, Alisaie turning to the console and deactivating the flow of aether to the regenerating primal. Turning, she stepped up to the au ra and offered her an arm of support. “‘Tis done. Shall we make our way back to the surface and gather our thoughts? We have seen much that will benefit from Urianger’s learned perspective.” 

A bolt of energy came from behind them, striking Alisaie in the chest and knocking her back and away. Atara staggered some at the loss of support, turning towards where the energy came from, her eyes widening as she beheld Archon Louisoix. Alisaie cried out as she stood. 

“Grandfather!? It _is_ you! Then..why?”

“Abandon this quest, Alisaie. I will not countenance further sabotage of the coils.” The Archon spoke, Atara’s spirits entirely unsettled and setting the paladin offset as well.

“‘Sabotage’? But...but we must disable the coils if we are to prevent Bahamut’s revival!” Alisaie almost desperately spoke, reminding Atara that for all the intelligence and skill she and her brother showed, they were still young. Alisaie’s insistence at clinging to her disbelief of what her grandfather was saying made significantly more sense to the woman as she realized this.

“Your defiance seals your fate.” Louisoix coldly noted. He held up his hand, magic gathering in his palm. Atara forced her legs to move, putting herself between the shade of the Archon and Alisaie, the elezen’s eyes wide as she first looked to the paladin protecting her, then narrowing as she looked beyond her to the elder elezen.

“No...No, you are not who I thought you were...My grandfather would _never_ …” Atara felt the ache that was in Alisaie’s voice in her gut. Louisoix smirked faintly, lowering his arm.

“Foolish girl.How could the White Raven allow herself to be bested by such sniveling opponents?” His eyes began to glow red, similar to Nael, signaling what was truly speaking. ”Listen well. We all exist at the pleasure of one divine will. And the word of Lord Bahamut is absolute!” Though he cast no spell, made no gesture, Atara heard Alisaie gasp as if in pain behind her at the words, though the young elezen stood taller after. “Scurry back into your holes, vermin. You have been granted this one reprieve. But should you be so foolish as to crawl into my lord’s domain again, I will crush the life from you myself.” His words said, he teleported away.

“That light in Grandfather’s eyes...He has suffered the same fate as Nael.” Alisaie softly whispered behind her, Atara briefly closing her eyes before she turned to look to her. The former legatus’ words regarding strength came back to the paladin as she reached a hand out to Alisaie when the younger woman looked aside, a tear sliding free of her eyes. “My grandsire is 

no more. That was naught but a phantom that profanes his noble memory…” She looked up to Atara, her blue eyes intense with emotion as her voice rose from the whisper. “This mockery must be expunged! I will not rest until I free Grandfather’s soul from Bahamut’s tyranny.” 

She whirled around, facing the regenerating primal in the distance. “Do you hear me, Bahamut? Your time is at an end! Eorzea--and my family-- will be avenged!”


	17. Truths Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the truth is too hard to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been quite the year, hasn't it? My apologies for taking so long to update, thank you if you're still reading!

Neither woman was surprised when they found themselves in Thanalan again once teleported from the chamber deep within the ground. Glances were exchanged followed by slight shrugs, Alisaie hopping down to the dirt from the stone they had once again found themselves on.

“At least we can safely assume that leaving that particular chamber will return us here.” Alisaie mildly commented, glancing back when she heard the light grunt escape Atara as the au ra slid off the ledge to the ground. “Gods, but you look like...well, like you fought what you just fought.” The younger elezen stepped back to the paladin’s side, sliding her arm around her waist as Atara accepted the assistance, arm resting over Alisaie’s shoulders. 

A light laugh escaped her. “You’ll need to give me a few days to get my armor repaired or replaced, I think, before we continue on our exploration of the depths, there.” The skin about her eyes tightened with the shock of pain that flowed up her side as she moved her leg, but she bit back any sound, not wanting to concern Alisaie. 

The look Alisaie was giving her suggested she was already concerned. “It was a remarkably deep burn. I healed it best I could but we should check with a healer at Bluefog..” She let Atara set the pace of movement, smiling lightly as the paladin wrinkled her nose in mild distaste. 

“I’m really starting to dislike the smell of the ceruleum.” The au ra noted, but giving Alisaie a smile and slight shrug of her opposite shoulder. “I’m sure its just the usual ache after healing.” She offered, Alisaie not looking convinced as she helped Atara move towards the distant camp. 

“I’d be less worried if it were my brother who healed you, I must admit that his skill in the healing arts was always a step ahead of mine.” Alisaie admitted as they walked carefully to the nearby road. “I certainly excel when it comes to combat.” She added somewhat under her breath, Atara biting back a soft laugh. 

“I think that we’ve gotten this far without a major test of your healing is evident of your contribution to the fighting side of things.” Atara smiled, doing her best to not smile wider as the compliment caused Alisaie to blush lightly, just enough to dust her cheeks with color.

“Yes, well.” Alisaie trailed off, looking off to the side as Atara laughed softly, cheeks darkening. “I can handle myself!”

“Oh, I know.” Atara replied, seriousness in her tone. Her tail swayed behind her as she trailed off a bit in thought, the tip twitching each time she stepped and felt a jolt of pain from her leg. 

Both found themselves content in the quiet as they continued towards the camp, calling up to the sentries posted on the arch over the road that they were fine and not in need of assistance. Atara eventually broke the silence. “I suppose we should come up with a reason for this injury.”

“That’s easy. There are bombs up at one of the old mine entries, you just didn’t get out of the way of one fast enough.” Alisaie offered.

Atara chuffed. “That would say I missed it growing to be as big as me before exploding!” She protested, the elezen giggling at her side. 

“Or that you were reckless or that you weren’t paying attention..” 

“Not helping.”

Alisaie laughed cheerfully as Atara shook her head, then was unable to keep from joining in as well. They slowly moved over to the side of the road as from behind them came the clatter of a chocobo cart bearing the soldiers from the far watchtower, the driver pulling it up alongside of them. “Oi, ‘venturers. Wanna lift down t’ Bluefog? You both look like ya had a time o’ it.”

Gratefully accepting, the driver pulled the cart forward to let them in the back, the Immortal Flames in the back shuffling around to make room, one of the big roe’s sitting on the gate reaching out and first easily lifting Alisaie up, then having noted how she was moving, carefully lifting Atara up, she giving him a thankful smile as Alisaie helped her settle again. 

The paladin covered her face with her hands as Alisaie cheerfully answered questions about what happened with the ‘too close to the bomb’ excuse, Atara glancing at her with one eye through her fingers as the Flames around them laughed and took the opportunity to playfully jab at the two ‘adventurers’ as the cart creaked it’s way back to the camp.

They were let off in front of the infirmary, Atara quietly thankful to see the healer to be a lady hyur conjurer, and unsurprisingly, happened to be one of the many in Alisaie’s employ, lucky enough to be on duty at that moment. After initial near panic at seeing the duo, she quickly calmed and settled into examination mode. Reassuring Alisaie that she had healed it quite well, she explained the lingering pain and inflammation was normal for a burn wound, and though it would leave a scar, judging from the size of the injury it was good to have been healed quickly to avoid infection. 

Atara admittedly was paying little attention to the conversation in front of her as she tilted her head slightly, tired mind focusing on the murmur of her spirits in the background. Alisaie noted the distant expression on the paladin and blushed slightly, refocusing the conversation. “So what from this point? I don’t think a chocobo ride would be a good idea.” 

“Oh Thal’s balls, no, don’t do that.” The hyur exclaimed, blushing when Atara shot her an amused smirk and raised-brow look. “At least a day, and I’ll check on it tomorrow.” She pulled a jar of salve down from a shelf and a roll of bandages, carefully spreading the greenish gel over the scar, Atara shivering involuntarily at the feel, skilled healer hands gently wrapping the bandage loosely over the paladin’s thigh. “The bandage is only to keep it clean, its not meant to be tight, lest you wonder. The salve should keep it cool and help lower the inflammation, good thing for you burn wounds are common enough around here for me to keep a supply of this on hand. A lot of bombs up to the north.”

The healer blinked as Atara smacked her forehead with one hand while Alisaie broke down in peals of laughter.

* * *

Atara poked at the meal the innkeeper had brought them after they settled in their room, the paladin with her leg up and down to linen light clothes. Alisaie glanced up over the edge of the book she had pulled from seemingly nowhere as she heard the au ra mutter something under her breath. "Pardon? Is it alright?" 

Cheeks darkening at having been caught mumbling, Atara sheepishly ran a hand over her hair. "I, uh, was just thinking about how Eorzeans eat a lot of green things and wishing there were more miqo'te around. You know, for some actual meat." She wrinkled her nose and pushed the bowl away, half eaten. 

Alisaie exhaled a dramatic sigh, smirking as she leaned over to push her plate within Atara's reach. "Here, you ate your bread, at least eat mine. I didn't recall Urianger's book on your people to mention a specific need for meat."

A snort of laughter escaped the au ra as she snagged the small loaf off the plate. "Bah, that book is all about the sun scaled anyway, they stay in one place long enough to have gardens." 

"Sun scaled? Is that what 'Raen' means?" Alisaie asked curiously, leaning her book down in her lap. Her brow quirked at how Atara's cheeks darkened again. 

"Ah, no, but they're of Azim, the Dawn Father, so...I promise I don't say it..." She paused, gesturing with her hand a little and saying a steppe word, trying to find the common. "..it's not meant bad."

"Derogatorily." Alisaie offered. She laughed when red eyes gave her a blank look, waving her own hand in the air. "Nevermind, I get it. Would you like to see the book? I..uh, brought it with." It was her turn for her cheeks to color, she turning and leaning to open her pack and attempt to hide her face.

"Oh..ah..no thank you." Atara glanced aside. 

"No? I suppose it might be boring to read about your own people. Hmm, I've a book of poetry, would you like that?"

"No thank you."

"History of Goblin Trade?"

"...why do you have that."

"...because you never know when you need proper tongue flaps to make busydeals."

Atara laughed softly and shook her head, waving her hand a bit. “I don’t need anything to read, thank you.” She smiled lightly, closing her eyes and tilting her head so her horns avoided the headboard, but she was able to lean back against it as Alisaie nodded and picked up her own book again. 

“Let me know if you do, might not hurt for you to get some rest, though.” She smiled at the light grumble of seeming protest she got in reply, lifting her book to attempt to read again, but found herself watching the paladin’s profile instead. 

Au ra were rare in Eorzea, let alone female au ra. She had spied the males before, though admittedly with their height they were hard to miss, mostly raen with the pale scales, counter to the dark, almost blue scheen Atara’s scales had. One could easily argue that female au ra were just easy to miss with how much smaller they were than their male counterpart, Alisaie would argue that they were striking enough on their own to draw the eye even if they were more akin to miqo’te height. 

When Urianger had told her who was going to accompany her, he did so while handing her the copy of the book she was earlier alluding to, and she had to wonder at his motives. The man was intelligent enough to know what Atara had noted, that the book would be more biased towards the raen and their more settled place in Far Eastern society, rather than on the xaela. So why give it to her when he knew she would be with a xaela, different enough from her kin that everything Alisaie had learned from the book would come with a footnote? She shook her head slightly, blushing softly as she found herself noting just how much more scale was visible with the lighter clothing the paladin wore and wondering how much and what else of the woman was scaled. 

‘This is perhaps the least ideal time and place to be having those thoughts, Alisaie.’ She scolded herself, lifting her book to take up her view and focus. When the innkeeper told them there was only one room but two beds, Alisaie had said it was fine with no hesitation, but now, upon reflection, she realized just how often she had been just looking at the other woman each time they were together and her book held no appeal, leaving the single room a much more distracting place. Earlier she may have been able to dismiss it as curiosity of a new companion, quietly ashamed to admit she had initially considered the au ra little more than a bodyguard, but now that excuse was much, much weaker. 

She bit back a sound of surprise as Atara’s eyes opened to scowl slightly at the ceiling. Had the woman somehow known she was looking at her? They had talked about her ability to hear spirits, had they blown her cover? She glanced about the room briefly, wondering now just exactly what it was the woman spoke with them about and what they talked to her on. And how to ask such a thing? 'Oh, by the way, can your spirits read minds? Do they watch you all the time? Do I have to worry about my own privacy?'

Just as quickly as her eyes had opened, the red of them always a mild shock to Alisaie when she saw them, they closed and Atara settled again, leaving the elezen biting her lower lip. The questions about the spirits lingered, and internally she sighed at herself, hearing her brother in her thoughts telling her it wasn’t the time to be asking such questions...but her lips curled into a smile, because to her that simply meant of course it was the time. Closing her book, the mark still in place from when she paused her reading ages ago, she shifted to the edge of the bed and stood. Atara’s eyes opened again to watch as Alisaie slid the book back into her pack, lifting the canvas sack and moving it to the small table by the door. 

“Going to try to sleep?” Atara asked, smiling as it caused Alisaie to startle a bit even though the elezen had seen her open her eyes.

“Eventually! I just...well.” Alisaie wrinkled her nose a little at herself, then straightened her shoulders. Her cheeks colored slightly as she turned back and stepped over to sit on the edge of her bed, fingers picking a bit at the plain wool blanket on top. “This will sound awful I’m sure, but...do I...need to worry about privacy from your spirits?” 

Atara stared at her for a long moment, then laughed softly, her own cheeks coloring darker. Alisaie stuck her tongue out at the other woman, who laughed again as she pushed herself away from the headboard, sliding down the bed a touch. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you so much at the thought! No one had asked me that before.”

Alisaie blinked. “Really? Not even Yda?” 

Shifting her leg carefully so the injured limb was on top, Atara laid down on her side, propping her head up on her hand and resting on her elbow. She shook her head and smiled, laughing softly again. “Not even Yda, but come now, you know how…. unconcerned she is with how others perceive her. I think the only time she ever gives my spirits a thought is when they distract me.” 

“But even when...ah. I mean..” Alisaie felt like she was the one who wasn’t speaking in her native tongue as she stumbled over her words, unable to bring herself to say things and blushing all the darker for it. Atara smiled gently, her eyes kind even as she was amused at the other's embarrassment. 

“Even when we’re intimate, she doesn’t worry. And you don’t need to either.” The paladin’s eyes widened as she blushed darkly, clearing her throat and quickly continuing. “I mean, for like dressing or sleeping or whatever. The only one who can easily see things around it is my Elder, who is functionally genderless and has no mind for physical things like that anymore, and is the only one that lingers near. But if you want I can ask for them to sort of...unfocus on things in the physical, since we’re safe and all that.” Atara considered a moment. “As for myself, they are simply like family, and I’ve no reason to be embarrassed around my kin, even if they were more...aware, of that aspect of life anymore.” 

Alisaie paused even as her cheeks continued to burn with an embarrassed heat at the topic at hand, only threatening to stay even stronger thanks to Atara’s own level of blushing. “It’s almost disappointing to hear that they don’t think about that aspect of being alive anymore.”

“Even if it means you don’t have to be embarrassed?” Atara asked, smiling a bit crookedly.

“Well it’s sad to think of an aspect of existence that lacks some of the more simple pleasures.” Alisaie huffed, her ears turning red as Atara’s smile grew wider.

“Alisaie Leveilleur, aren’t you too young by Sharlayan standards to be thinking about such unscholarly pursuits?” Atara couldn’t help but tease, laughing as she deflected the thrown pillow that came from across the room.

“I am perfectly of the age to begin to consider that!” She sputtered, crossing her arms defensively as she sat down on her bed. “I would just appreciate you didn’t inform my brother. Let him come to his own realizations in time.” Alisaie chuffed. “I dare say he’s so focused on his grand plans to even take a moment to consider such.” 

Atara grunted lightly in what seemed general agreement with Alisaie’s assessment of her brother and his pursuits. “I’m...not really a part of all that but it isn’t..I don’t know. Other Scions are helping with that.” 

“Frankly that surprises me some, to have the Ultima destroyer mixed in with whatever it is he’s doing sounds like a power move he’d go for.” 

Atara smiled lightly and shrugged, running her hand over her hair lightly before she lightly rubbed her hand over the bandage. “That assumes that I didn’t say ‘no’.” 

The young elezen arched both brows and smiled slowly. “I have to say that I am quite happy to hear that. I’ve been told ‘no’ plenty in my life, though I was never doubted when in Sharlyan, or prevented from anything, but once Alphinaud and I left to seek answers...well, some doors closed as options for me. I have only learned from it, to be sure, but...I feel that such has not been the same for my brother, which is unfortunate.” Alisaie sighed and stood, moving to tug out of her caster clothing, glancing over her shoulder and unable to help but feel charmed that the paladin had politely closed her eyes and lifted a hand to shield any accidental glances.

“I have to say that on one hand I’m hoping he has success, but on the other it seems so...large, of an undertaking. The Scions are selective in who they reach out to for a reason, I just...don’t like the idea. I sent a message to a few I knew may be interested partly to help but partly to..well.” Atara paused, listening to Alisaie move and opening her eyes again once the elezen returned to her bed, now dressed in similar light linens to her own. “Frankly I hope they can keep an eye on him.” 

Alisaie nodded as she pulled back the blanket, sliding under and stretching out on her back with a soft sigh. “I hope so too.” 

* * *

Conversation had slowed and the lantern was turned down low, the pair falling asleep fairly rapidly after their significant exertions earlier. It was still dark when Atara woke, shaking her head slightly from the mild disorientation as she tried to pin what had woken her, the camp quiet in the depth of the night. It took her a few moments, but she realized there were soft sounds of distress coming from across the room. 

Wincing slightly as she slid from under the covers and stood, she carefully shifted across the distance between the two beds, resting her hand gently on the other bed as she leaned in. Alisaie’s expression was strained, her breathing heavier as she shifted, uncomfortable in her dreaming. The au ra bit lightly at her lower lip as she considered, then reached out with her free hand to lightly stroke the back of her fingers over the elezen’s cheek as she spoke softly. “Alisaie? It’s just a bad dream, you’re okay…” 

She didn’t startle when Alisaie did, expecting that reaction as she rested her hand on the teen’s shoulder as she jerked and her eyes flashed open with a gasp, one hand fumbling for her tome nearby on the bed. “Shh, hey, it’s alright.” Atara softly cooed, squeezing her shoulder.

Alisaie’s eyes flicked about and then settled on the soft light from Atara’s as she drew in a steadying breath, reaching up to rub at her eyes as the spike of panic faded. “A-Atara? Are you alright?”

The au ra smiled at the question, carefully sitting at the edge of the bed as Alisaie shifted to the side a little, keeping her hand on the others shoulder. “I’m fine, but you seemed to be having a bad dream…” 

A soft grumbled grunt of an answer was enough of a ‘yes’, though Alisaie nodded lightly as the imagery returned to her mind, running her hand over her face as she pushed herself up to sit, leaning against the headboard. Her voice was still groggy with sleep as she spoke. “I..yes. It was...well our expedition was markedly unpleasant.” 

Atara smiled lightly as she carefully stood, only slightly limping as she moved to get a glass of water from the table, bringing it back to Alisaie as she gently sat back on the bed again. “That’s one way to describe it, yes.” She rested one hand on the other’s knee, softly stroking her thumb back and forth.

Alisaie quickly finished the water, holding the glass in both hands and looking down to it in her hold. The tension faded from her expression but her shoulders and back stayed stiff. “Atara...do you…” She lightly bit at her lower lip, staying focused on her hands, unblinking to keep the tears welling up from falling. “..do you, or your spirits, think that was truly my grandfather?” 

The paladin had expected the question, squeezing Alisaie’s knee. “The words and intent were of Bahamut.” She replied, thinking of van Darnus’ and the warning of difficulties. Alisaie glanced at her, drawing in a trembling breath to speak, but Atara continued. “I...All that my Elder could say to it was ‘wrong’, that everything was off and uncertain.” 

Alisaie looked back to her hands, drawing in a slow breath that then huffed out with a soft scowl as her shoulders trembled lightly. “..thank you. I don’t know what’s worse. Thinking it simply an illusion, or thinking of him a thrall to Bahamut even after…” Her voice cracked and she grimaced, closing her eyes as the tears welled up too great and spilled over her cheeks as she turned her face away.

Shifting closer, Atara lifted her hand to reach her arm around Alisaie’s shoulders, guiding the elezen as she reflexively moved in to curl against the au ra’s side, shoulders shaking softly as she quietly cried. Taking the glass and setting it aside, Atara wrapped both of her arms about the teen, quiet and letting her cry as the elezen reached out to wrap both of her arms about the paladin’s waist, tugging at her to pull the au ra to lay down with her after a bit of awkward shifting, Atara easily drawn to do so as she stretched out with Alisaie held in against her side. Neither said anything, Alisaie pressing her face to Atara’s shoulder and muffling her soft sobs. 

Gradually, the tears slowed and the hiccuped breathing calmed, Alisaie letting the tensions spill forth. Atara had to wonder about the times that they weren’t together, if the teen had someone she felt safe with, or if it were no one but her retainers and others technically in her employ. Did she talk to Urianger? Near she could tell, though they kept tabs on each other the twins did not speak at the moment. While the knowledge of Bahamut’s regeneration and tension around it was significant for her, she knew the addition of her Grandfather into the mix only made it all the harder for Alisaie, and now the au ra found herself reluctant to part ways with the teen after they left the inn, but dismissed that concern for the moment. What mattered was the here, and now. She closed her eyes as she lightly rested her chin on top of Alisaie’s head, tucking the younger woman into her hold as she felt her slowly calm and relax again. 

“Feeling okay?” Atara softly murmured, quirking a brow at the lack of reply. Leaning her head back a bit, she smiled to find Alisaie asleep. Carefully, Atara reached to pull the blanket back up, not wanting to wake the sleeping teen again, and at the same time, not wanting to pull away either, content to doze off again with the elezen in her arms. 


	18. Sound and Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SWF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still reading and tolerating my lack of an update schedule.

Atara watched Alisaie from her spot in the shade the next morning, leaned up against the wall of the inn while sat on a supply crate. After a few inquiries they found that a troop carrier was going to be heading to Horizon the next day, and so opted to take the opportunity to rest and recover some and join the traveling troops after the local Flame commander finally realized who they were (or more appropriately who Atara was as the ‘Ultima Destroyer’) and had offered it. The elezen had taken it upon herself to at least get some of the paladin’s broken armor looked at before they left the Camp, and Atara watched as she talked to the armorer. She had insisted that Alisaie not worry too heavily about repairing gear, emphasizing that she had no particular attachment to the armor of any sentimental value and would be fine getting new, but for some reason Alisaie seemed insistent on the subject, and had taken the burned and battered leg armor to the camp smith to see if there was anything to be done. 

The au ra shook her head and smiled, turning her attention down to her shield as she buffed at its surface, scrubbing off the soot and blood. Her tailtip flicked at her side as she considered the recent battle against the shade of van Darnus that caused the damage and how the blood on the shield was her own, a sigh escaping her lips as she let herself finally reflect on the fight, more focused on Alisaie the night prior. It was certainly becoming some of the biggest moments in her time as a Scion, and she was fairly certain few would ever know of it. Not that she was a Scion for fame and fortune, she wasn’t an Adventurer for either of those reasons either. She was there because her spirits had directed her to be, and was content that they would be the only ones to know of what happened in her time with Alisaie. 

She never expected her life to have grown to the point where the outcome of the battles she participated in would be so pivotal for so many beyond herself. The battle in the imperial castrum and in the depths against Ultima had been intense, fast and almost frantic in a few ways, then almost achingly slow as Lahabrea and van Baelsar bickered, frustratingly out of her reach. It nearly drove her to try to climb the Alagan monstrosity to end it. It only added to her fury when the other adventurers she was there with suddenly disappeared after Hydalyn’s intervention to protect them from the spell Ultima. (And never in her life did she feel so relieved to find them having been teleported to safety.) But even through that, the implications of the battle weren’t in her mind, it was only down to winning. What happened to the world at large if she did or didn’t wasn’t in her thoughts until much later. The scale of the battle in the depths of the remains of Dalamud was ultimately smaller, but had reached a new level of intensity with a scope of possible repercussions she hadn’t yet experienced. Where the Imperials were bent on conquest, Bahamut was determined to destroy, and everything was intent on impressing that fact.

A few times her thoughts during the fight with van Darnus had wondered if that was what the armies desperately fighting that day against Bahamut felt. The suffocating heat, the oppressive pressure from above, the feeling of breathing pure fire into frantically panting lungs. A surge of memory from the spirits that lingered in those chambers, voices she did not tell Alisaie she had heard. The roiling anger and fear and even points of pride and accepting of what was happening radiating from the unseen spirits. There had been little sound from spirits she could communicate with during their exploration prior, the sense of some form around at all times, yes, but none who wished to, or could communicate with her and her Elder until they had reached the chamber to be met by van Darnus. 

It had sounded like an army began to roar as Darnus transformed. Fury and fear in equal measure, a flood of emotion that washed over her like a tidal wave. Pulses of energy that fed into her attacks, the will of the spirits there fuling her as they were desperate to find a different outcome than the pyre they had been thrown into before. Their focus on the au ra paladin and desires placed on her shoulders, hearing them crying out as she faltered when the flames flowed over her thigh; then rejoicing as she struck van Darnus down. 

Part of what had her shaken immediately after was not the intensity of the pain in her leg and the other wounds that burned on her body, but the sudden utter silence that had fallen over the spirits. It was as if the wind had been sucked out of the massive chamber, the sense of it all being pulled away and deeper into the maze of chambers and passageways buried so far below the lands those spirits had once called home. 

Alisaie had asked her if she was willing to continue shortly after the pair had woken that morning, the elezen quick to find conversation other than the looming wondering at waking up in the same bed. She was concerned with the depth of the wound the paladin had suffered, worried that the revelations exposed in the regeneration chamber had shaken the Scion. She tried to suggest that since Atara was not native to those lands she did not need feel obligated to continue to assist her, which only earned the elezen a long look and the quiet reminder that she, her brother, their Grandfather, and the Archons weren’t originally of the land they fought for, either. 

But she wondered what her motivations were. Her spirits hadn’t specifically told her to help, they hadn’t truly given her any pointed direction since she had arrived in Eorzea, simply expressing their approval, or disapproval, of decisions she made since. She leaned back, setting her forgotten shield next to her as she felt it grow heavy on top of her thighs, looking down at the edge of the bandage that peeked out from under her light clothes. Now that she was wondering, she felt her Elder guide stir, the gentle touch of it’s attention felt in her thoughts. A light sound escaped her, finding herself at a bit of a loss as to what she should say or ask, her tail flicking back and forth a bit harder in her frustration, tapping softly against her seat and the wall as she scowled down at her lap, cheeks coloring softly at the sensation of amusement from her Elder. 

“Does your shield defy you?” Alisaie’s voice startled Atara, the au ra fumbling a bit and knocking aside her shield where it leaned against her hip. 

“I, what?” The au ra stuttered a little, cheeks dark. “No, no, I was just..” She found herself hesitating a bit at admitting to her thoughts, brow furrowing. 

Alisaie tilted her head as she looked down to the seated woman, stepping to the side and sitting down on another crate, setting the bi tof armor she still had on the ground. “You looked like you were either scowling at your shield, or your leg. Is it bothering you? We can go see the healer earlier than we had meant to.”

Atara looked up and around the immediate area, then back over to Alisaie, offering the teen a soft smile. “No, it’s not urgent. I was just lost in thought and thinking.” She sighed lightly as Alisaie didn’t look entirely convinced, smiling light. “I was...well I was starting to reach out to my spirits, but…” A frown crossed her features, she reaching up and rubbing at her forehead before lightly holding the side of her head as a wave of dizziness flowed over her. She heard a light sound of concern from Alisaie, and exhaled a breath through her nose. “Sorry, I think...I’m more worn out from this dive into things than before. There was a lot of spiritual ‘noise’ down there this time.”

Alisaie reached over and lightly touched her hand to Atara’s shoulder, the paladin not opening her eyes to the touch. “That settles it. After we speak with Urianger you need to rest a while. I do not wish to go back into those caverns without you, and before you say it, I know the situation is pressing, but I will not let you harm yourself by moving too quickly.” 

Keeping her hand on the side of her head, red eyes opened and glanced to the young elezen. Atara smiled lightly at quickly noting the determination in the blue eyes that looked back, letting her decision hang for a moment before she let it drop to the side of agreement, nodding slightly. “Alright. I may actually teleport to Mor Dhona, I’d like to speak with Minfilia in person.” 

“Teleport, is that…” Alisaie’s concern was evident in her voice, the paladin smiling as she reached over to rest her hand on the young elezen’s shoulder. 

“It’s perfectly safe, I just don’t like to do it. But the usual travel is too long.”

“I suppose it’s not something easily discussed over a linkpearl.”

“I’m afraid not.” 

Alisaie made a mild sound and the au ra smiled gently, shifting a bit and picking up her shield. “How about this. I go rest for a while, and then after traveling to Horizon tomorrow, if I need to I stay there. Will that help soothe your worries?”

The young elezen tried to hide the flush of color that rose by clearing her throat and looking away, nodding as she reached down to pick up the broken bits of armor. “Yes, thank you. It would go a good way to doing that.” She reached for the shield and took it from Atara, tucking it under her arm with the armor bundle and holding her free hand out for the au ra. 

Taking the offered hand, Atara smiled lightly and let Alisaie help her up, closing her eyes for a breath before she turned towards the inn door, trailing after the elezen as she headed back in and into their room. She hid a slight yawn behind her hand as she sat on the edge of the bed, watching Alisaie carefully set aside her shield, then set down the bundle of broken armor. “Why are you keeping that armor? You could probably get some gil for the scrap value.” 

Alisaie wrinkled her nose and frowned, Atara raising a brow a little in surprise at the expression. The twin shook her head. “No. I mean, I know it’s not good for you as a piece of armor anymore, but I just can’t get rid of it yet, I’m sorry..”

Atara laughed lightly as she reached down to undo her boot ties. “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize, I just...don’t want to cause you any sort of burdens, I think. Material or otherwise.”

“You’re letting me drag you into the depths of who really knows what, so you can stand in front of me and let things hit you so I don’t get hit, I think I can willingly carry a small bit of your leg armor.” Alisaie somewhat blandly replied, earning a soft laugh from the other woman.

“Okay, okay, fair.” She yielded, making a soft sound as she rolled onto the bed, still a bit mindful of her leg, Alisaie glancing over and taking note of both sound and motion, but felt pleased to see that the woman was moving much better than the day prior. “Are you going to stay in here?”

“Do you mind if I do?” 

“Not in the least.” 

“Then yes, I think I will, I want to write down my thoughts before we speak with Urianger.” Alisaie pulled open her pack, digging back into it as she sat down at the small table. 

Atara made an approving sound before she rolled onto her side, back to the room at large. A comfortable silence fell over the pair, savoring the gentle nearness and relaxation.


	19. Off Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Debriefing Urianger the next day, once the troop carrier had returned to Horizon, went fairly quickly despite everything that had transpired. He knew well enough to temper his reactions of surprise at learning who it was the pair had fought, the idea of van Darnus being enthralled, and subsequently let go, by a Primal clearly began to turn gears in the Archon’s mind. Once he and Alisaie began to talk more in depth in a scholarly fashion about what had gone on, Atara took the opportunity to excuse herself, advising Alisaie that she’d reach out via linkpearl after her upcoming conversation with the Ascendant. Stepping into the hallway and taking a few steadying breaths, she briefly running her hand over her face, Atara closed her eyes and focused on the flow of the aether currents, seeking the resonance of the stone in Revenant’s Toll before she cast the spell to bring her there. 

The au ra didn’t expect the sensation to be quite as disorienting and dizzying as it turned out to be, unable to clearly see as she staggered back a step. Hitting the edge of the stone ring around the aetheryte, she sat down hard with a clank of her gear, dropping her pack in front of herself. Closing her eyes, she leaned her elbows hard on her knees, holding her head in her hands as she tried to will the world to stop spinning while casting her senses out for her Elder, feeling the cold pit in her gut at being spiritually alone for the while. It always felt like she was a child lost without her family when her spirits weren’t at her side, always afraid they wouldn’t find her again. The pressing in of strange, unknown spirits curious about the spiritual signal fire that her living essence was passing up against her personal shielding and sending strokes of cold along her atherical pathways, leaving her feeling naked and exposed to searching eyes emboldened by her sudden presence. They would coil around and speak, words initially garbled and alien even though she had been to Revenant's Toll many times before and around these same essences, only their emotions getting through to her and always growing in intensity as they knew she was aware, they knew she could hear, they did not understand why she didn't answer. Without her Elder muting her energy with its own to make her less of a beacon, without its connection naturally providing translation for her, she was little more than a lighthouse on the spiritual level that couldn't reply to the calls of those pulled near. Her Elder always, always found her, no matter where she was, but it didn’t lessen the fear of teleporting and becoming lost.

“Och, are you alright, Atara?” Slafborn’s familiar voice came from above, the big seawolf man having quickly spotted her and her stumbling motions from his usual post, coming over and resting one massive hand on her shoulder as he crouched down some at her side. 

Grateful for the warm, steadying hand, Atara leaned towards the touch subconsciously, otherwise keeping her head in her hands. “Tele...teleporting and I do not get along so..so well. I’ll be fine in a bit, just had a rough time of late.” She internally grimaced at how she sounded, and she could tell Slafborn wasn’t entirely convinced. 

“Well...take your time and rest, good thing the Heaven is right near, hmm? Not to far to get to your folks down there.” He gently patted her shoulder, silently signaling to the lalafell that constantly patrolled around the aetheryte. He saluted to the roe, hurrying into the nearby inn. 

“Yeah. Thank you.” Atara mumbled, Slafborn squeezing her shoulder before he stood and moved away a bit, but she felt his eyes still watching. She could tell the aether in Mor Dhona was stirred up in that pinkish purple state it would get, and stirred up the energy of the spirits around with it, which she imagined was the reason for the dizziness to be slow in passing. After a few moments, she cracked her eyes open to look at her pack at her feet.

“Atara!” Her name was called again, she feeling a warmth spread through her chest as a smile rose to her lips, even though the voice was colored with concern. Yda. The monk ran up to her and to her knees as her side with a clack of armor on stone, gloved hand on her upper arm. “Oh why did you teleport? Are you okay?”

That it had been nearly two moons since she had last seen Yda abruptly hit home with the woman's presence. Lifting her head from her hands, she ignored the sway of the world as she turned to look to the blond, briefly opening her mouth before she simply reached up and wrapped her arms around the hyur’s shoulders, leaning in to bury her face in Yda’s neck as she murmured. “I’m more than okay now.” 

Yda’s arms curled around her in kind, pulling the au ra close as she pressed her cheek to the coils of Atara’s hair. “Oh I missed you.” The two simply held each other for a few long moments, Yda finally leaning her head back to look down towards Atara. “But why did you teleport? You hate to, are you okay?”

She knew half of the reason for the other woman asking was that she was likely leaning just a bit too heavily against Yda’s chest, Atara doing her best to not sway like the continued mild dizziness was trying to make her. “I was down in Thanalan, and didn’t have the time to travel, I’ll need to go back soon, but really needed to talk to Minfilia..” She leaned back some, resting her forehead to the edge of Yda’s turban. She closed her eyes and groaned faintly at the timing of her Elder slipping close again, the relief that flowed through her and drew her to shiver likely not helping her convince her partner of her being okay. 

A light huff escaped the blond as she watched Atara’s eyes through her mask. “Not just over linkpearl…?” Yda wrinkled her nose a bit, tilting her chin to press her lips to the others in a brief kiss as she answered her own question, knowing that there were just some things that needed to be spoken in person. “Okay, but you’re not teleporting anywhere again today.” 

Atara’s cheeks flushed hotly at the kiss, leaning her face lightly to the other woman’s shoulder again and nodding. “Alright.” She muffledly agreed, then chuckled. “I’d be a bit heartbroken if you let me go in the same day we finally see each other after two moons.”

She laughed at the slightly strangled, almost scandalized sound that came from Yda at that. “Well that too!”

“Weekly linkpearl talks are not nearly enough of you, though it helps.” Atara finally relaxed her hold on the other woman’s shoulders, leaning back. “Is Papalymo with you?” 

Yda shook her head no as she reached for Atara’s pack as she stood, holding her hand out for the paladin. “No, he’s still in Gridania. I was sent to bring some things here and relax for a while, I just got here a few hours ago.” She smoothly drew Atara up when the other took her hand, keeping her hand on the au ra’s elbow until she was sure the other wasn’t showing dizziness. “I was going to call you tonight to see where you were, actually! You’ve answered that question already.” 

Atara laughed softly, sliding her hand into Yda’s and squeezing. They had reached a point of not entirely hiding their relationship when Yda seemed to decide one day it was fine and had kissed her in the middle of the Waking Sands as they had been working on the move to Mor Dhona. It only got them a teasing from Thancred, everyone else reacting how the paladin had expected...they knew all along. Only Alphinaud seemed surprised, which had amused his sister to no end when the au ra told her later. Now, she happily kept a hold of Yda’s hand, glad to not have to let go to try to hide. “Let me dump stuff on a bed somewhere. And see, I’m already fine.” She flexed one arm when Yda looked back to her, grinning as the monk paused a moment, her cheeks coloring slightly.

“It’s not like I’ve forgotten what you look like but that is just teasing.” Yda pouted, then smiled brightly as an idea seemed to come to her, tugging at the other woman’s hand. They passed through the Seventh Heaven and down the passage into the Rising Stones, Atara waving to those who greeted her, Yda keeping her moving to the hallway of small rooms and into the one she had obviously claimed, dropping the paladin’s pack on the bed next to hers. “Yda, I really should..” Atara started, cut off as the other woman turned around to face her, reaching up to push the door closed and the shorter paladin up against it, leaning in to capture her lips in a deeper kiss, swallowing the words that turned into a groan as she reached up, cupping Yda’s cheek in her hand and sliding her fingers up under the edge of her mask. 

Another low sound rumbled from the au ra as she felt teeth close against her lower lip, parting them with a soft exhaled breath, mumbling against the monk’s lips. “I should check in with Minfilia..?” 

“She’s in a meeting with the Adventurer’s Guild.” Yda replied, nipping lightly at the other woman's lower lip before she ducked her head, nudging up under Atara’s chin, the au ra using the motion as an excuse to push her turban and mask off to flop to the floor behind her, letting her run her fingers up through the freed blond strands and behind her neck. A shiver flowed down her spine as she felt exploring lips and teeth work along the edge of black scale, tail curling up at her side before around her to brush over Yda’s hip. 

“A-ah, I see….so..ah!” Atara attempted to speak, feeling her face and neck flush with heat as her lover nipped at her reddened skin. Strong hands roamed over her form and her lighter traveling clothes, the back corner of Atara’s mind grateful that she really only wore her greaves and not the rest of her set left back in Thanalan. 

“Look. I’ve thought about you the entire travel up here from Gridania, praying to the Gods that we’d run into each other or that you could come if I called you, I know you wanna talk to Minfilia but by Rhalgr she can wait.” Yda mumbled against her neck, punctuating her words with nips and drags of her teeth over sensitive neck as her fingers started unbuttoning Atara’s top. 

Atara laughed at that, the sound stopping in a gasp as Yda’s strong hand slipped under the open buttons and found one of her breasts below her smalls, pinching down on the slowly stiffening nipple she found and pulling it to full firmness. She pressed her cheek to the side of Yda’s head, slightly shaking fingers working through blond locks as the other reached to help finish unbuttoning her shirt and tug loose the tie to her smallclothes. She briefly reached for Yda’s shirt, stilling as the monk’s free hand gently caught her wrist, leaning back from her attentions to Atara’s neck to briefly look at her, ocean blue eyes filled with a heat that sent another shudder through her as Yda lifted Atara’s hand to press her lips to her wrist without pulling her eyes from the other woman. 

Voice low and thick, Yda whispered as she leaned in to brush her lips over Atara’s again. “Nuh, you can put your hands in my hair or hold my shoulders, but that’s it.” That hunger and heat stayed in her unmasked eyes, drawing in a breath as her command had the au ra pressing harder against the door like she needed to for support, both of the paladin’s arms reaching up to hold Yda’s face in her hands as red eyes searched her expression. The smirk that quirked the blond’s lips seemed to be Atara’s undoing as she made a low, deep sound that resonated in her throat, nodding faintly. 

“O-okay.” Came the whispered, breathy reply, her hands settling on Yda’s shoulders as the monk quickly ducked her head to kiss her way back down along the edge of scale over slender neck, following the line they formed to point down over her collarbone and dip briefly between her breasts as she reached up to push Atara’s top off of her shoulders, Atara briefly lowering her hands to shake the garment loose to fall to the floor. Just how much she missed this came to mind as she caressed her fingers through her lover’s hair as Yda’s strong hands grasped at her bared breasts, rubbing her palms over the peaked bits of flesh as she gently squeezed, pressing her fingertips into the other woman’s skin. 

Softly, Yda’s lips followed the scar that cut between Atara’s breasts and angled down towards her hip, faintly grazing her teeth over the raised, darker bit of skin as she nuzzled her cheek to first one breast and then the other, letting them go as she slid her hands along Atara’s sides. Slowly she crouched in front of the au ra, lips marking a trail of kisses down over scarred, well muscled stomach as slightly trembling hands stroked through her hair, Atara looking down and watching with hazed eyes, lower lip captured in a bite. The tie to her belt was quickly undone, loosening her travel pants as Yda reached for the hem, starting to tug them down.

A thought briefly touched the more conscious bit of Atara’s mind as she felt the skin over her hips be bared as Yda’s thumb stroked over the scales that curved over them, her eyes widening as she drew in a quick breath when the hyur tugged her pants down off of her hips. “W-wait, I need..”

The gasp of surprise from Yda made Atara grimace slightly as the newest scar was bared, the burn scar that splashed over her thigh trembling slightly as the paladin shifted a bit, stepping out of her pants. When Yda looked up with worry and concern, Atara cupped her face in her hands, giving her a sheepish, crooked smile as she stroked her thumb softly over the curve of cheekbone. “I was going to say that I needed to warn you about that but you beat me to it.” 

“Oh, Atara..” Yda looked back down to the recently healed injury, reaching up and touching the tips of her fingers to the edge of the new skin, eyes flicking up to make sure there was no indication of pain as she gently stroked her fingers over the new marking. “..well. I’m glad you won.” 

Atara laughed at the comment, her eyes shining as she ran her hand along Yda’s neck, the other caressing through her hair again. “It’s past hurting, just sensitive.” She almost regretted saying that part out loud with how Yda’s eyes sparked a bit and her lips curled into a smile. 

“Is it now? Hmm.” Yda made a musing sound, smirking a bit as she watched the color flood up Atara’s neck and cheeks as she traced her fingertips along the edge of the scar, feeling the other woman’s thigh twitch and flex under the touch. 

Tightening her jaw for a long moment and holding her breath at the gentle exploration, Atara exhaled in a huff and whined softly. “Ooh, like you need a new thing to play with.” Her tail twitched and flexed behind her, the paladin gripping down some on Yda’s shoulders. 

Yda only giggled as her hand continued it’s gentle caress, but did relent to trail her fingers along the scales that flowed along the paladin’s outer thigh, deft fingers undoing the ties to the sides of her smalls. Leaning up, the blond brushed her lips over her lover’s stomach, drawing in a slow breath of her scent as the last bit of fabric fell away, leaving the au ra bare and pressed against the door, her clothing pooled around her on the floor. Her lips curled into a smile against the scar as she kissed it, feeling slightly trembling hands run through her hair. 

Blue eyes lifted to watch how red looked back, smouldering with a heat behind slightly lidded gaze, keeping them locked with hers as she slowly sank down, her lower lip dragging in slow caresses along the side of the black scaled line that dipped over her abdomen and mound, her warm breath flowing over the wet marks and sending a shiver through the other as Atara shifted her stance to spread her legs and stand on either side of the monk’s knees. Yda sat back on her heels as her hands slid up to hold the au ra’s hips in a firm grip, keeping her in place as her lips finally dipped low enough to stroke over outer folds already slick with arousal. A soft moan flowed form the monk at the reflection of arousal from her partner, she closing her eyes as she drew her tongue up the length of Atara’s sex.

Initially hissing in a breath at the feel of Yda’s lips, Atara echoed the moan as she felt her lover's tongue, her fingers curling to dig into blond strands and press nails into the back of her head for a moment, her other hand sliding along Yda’s neck and holding to her shoulder for support as eager lips and tongue worked over and into her with teasing, flickering motions. Pulling her tongue in a long draw from base to clit, Yda circled the button of nerves with the tip before closing her lips around it and suckling lightly, earning a gasp and flare of light from the au ra’s eyes, Atara groaning as she felt the curl of a smile against her. Strong hands flexed on scaled hips, one sliding around over the muscular curve of Atara’s backside to grip at her tailbase, pleased to hear the sharp intake of breath and then whine of arousal from above, accompanied by a tremble and pulse of the pearl below her lips. 

Closing her eyes, Yda listened to the panting and moans her attentions drew, reveling in the sensations; from the sounds both from Atara and herself, the scent of her body, the taste on her tongue as she did her best to make sure nothing escaped her lips. The tightening hand on her shoulder, the feel of nails raking through her hair as the paladin obediently followed her earlier instructions. The roll of hips towards her mouth only pushed her on, her fingers flexing around scaled tail and thumb sliding to stroke smoothly, yet firmly over the sensitive underside. How many times had she thought about this, in the two moons apart? She was madly in love and addicted to her au ra, her paladin, her Atara, her warrior. 

The time apart had dramatically lowered Atara’s endurance, she leaning forward some against Yda’s shoulder, the monk having to lean back slightly to keep her mouth eagerly pressed to her, using her grip on her tail to guide the gentle rocking motions against her lips and tongue. A triumphant little thrill ran through her when she felt Atara’s hand leave her shoulder to press against the door, feeling the paladin on the edge as nails pressed against the back of her neck, a silent plea to keep her going. Briefly, Yda entertained the idea of pulling away, dragging out the pleasure, but her own growing need kept her focused as she pressed her tongue as deeply into slick heat as she could, lips and teeth working at puffed folds, opting to draw it out in a different way that didn’t require moving from having her lover pinned to the door. Tilting her chin, she dragged her tongue up the length of Atara’s sex again before closing her lips around her pearl, tip of her tongue circling and then pressing down firmly on her pearl and rubbing back and forth. 

That was enough. Pressing hard against the door but canting her hips forward to Yda’s grip, Atara hung her head and bit down on her lower lip to muffle her cry, her whole form shuddering as the pleasure flooded through her. Her thighs twitched and jerked her hips as the hyur continued even with the climax, whining deep as she sagged against the door. Yda let go of Atara’s tail to grip down on her hips again, holding the woman in place as she relentlessly worked her tongue over the pulsing pearl, only briefly flicking away to drag lips and tongue over her folds and drink of her. Free from the hold, Atara’s tail lashed behind her, increasingly feeling as if held up only by Yda’s grip as she continued, head hanging and hair cascaded over her shoulders, mouth open and breathing heavy as she watched Yda’s eyes as they alternately closed in pleasure and opened to watch her above each time fingers carded through her hair. 

It didn’t take long for another peak to roll through Atara, the paladin leaning her head back against the door and letting her weaker cry escape this time, both of her hands going to Yda’s shoulders for support as she sagged dangerously, her hips weakly bucking against her lovers mouth. Dragging her tongue slowly up over pulsing, twitching folds, Yda placed a loving kiss to Atara’s pearl before she finally relented. Sliding one arm below Atara’s bottom she smoothly lifted as she stood from kneeling, her other arm wrapped around her torso to pull her close as arms wrapped about her shoulders and the other woman leaned her head down against her arms. Yda backed away from the door until her calves bumped against the bed, then sitting down, she laid back and pulled her lover down with her, caressing her hands over her sides and muscular rear and thighs, smirking a little each time the touch caused Atara to twitch some and whine against her neck where she had tucked her face. The shorter woman fit neatly against the taller hyur, her body flushed and warm, shoulders rising and falling with her faster breathing that gradually calmed. 

“Well now I kind of have to wait to see Minfilia.” Atara mumbled against Yda’s neck, smiling as the other woman laughed warmly, reaching up to stroke her fingers over the edge of Atara’s nearest horn, gently trailing her fingernail up the length of it and earning another soft shiver.

“All according to the plan I came up with on the fly.” Yda teased as she nuzzled her cheek to Atara’s hair. “Seriously though, you’ve been on my mind so much…”

“I know, mine too.” Atara replied, resting her elbows on the bed at Yda’s sides and pushing herself up a bit, looking down at the blond. She smiled at how her hair spread about her like a halo, leaning into a kiss even as her cheeks flushed at catching her own scent and taste on Yda’s lips and cheeks. She lightly bit at Yda’s lower lip, pulling her mouth open so her tongue could press in, shifting to the side a bit to let one hand run along the monk’s side.

Yda tilted her chin up into the kiss for a long moment, tongues stroking and gently working against each other. She exhaled a light huff and leaned back as she felt a soft tremble flow through the paladin, cupping her cheek in one hand. “Why don’t you rest? You’re still recovering from that burn you’ll have to tell me about, I know what you’re thinking but I can wait. I don’t even really _need_ it now, finally having you again, I promise.” 

Atara wrinkled her nose and pouted a bit, her tail swaying behind her as she looked ready to protest, but couldn’t deny the drain on her energy. She exhaled a huff and nipped lightly at Yda’s chin, but nodded. “Stay with me?”

“Of course! I’ll wake you at midday for a meal up in the Heaven, okay?” Yda quickly answered, stretching out to shove Atara’s pack off the bed and take hold of the blanket to pull up over the nude woman laid on her. 

Atara had no obvious intention of moving, the blanket only solidifying her decision to stay in place. She nodded, shifting down slightly so she could lay her cheek to Yda’s shoulder, eyes half lidding as she watched the soft pulse of heartbeat in her neck. “Okay.” Drawing in a slow, deep breath, she held it for a moment, then exhaled slowly. “I love you.” She murmured softly, smiling at the warm color drawn up along Yda’s neck. 

“Gods, I will never tire of hearing that..” Yda replied, lifting her head to kiss the top of Atara’s as she caressed her hand gently along muscular shoulders, fingers trailing over the scars she found there. “I love you too. Now get some rest.”

Atara continued to smile, letting her eyes close. “Yes ma’am.” She mumbled, it not taking long for her to drift off into sleep.


End file.
